Existentialist murmurings

Svalbard is far away now. I can’t even begin to picture what set me to flee my home there; the warm and protective lair that I always liked so much to return to after a tiring business trip, clinching gas deals in Ukraine, taking over some telecoms conglomerate in South-Korea or saving a fledgling Pacific island nation from bankruptcy. God I loved my life so much that I’m beginning to wonder whether in the end it was me that destroyed it. Perhaps I simply walked away because I was afraid that someone might take it from me; because I wanted to be in control, I wanted to be the one ending it before anyone could take it from me. Like Kurt Cobain, I needed to pull that plug myself. The dog that so haunted me in those fraught days outside the weather station was, in this sense, merely an excuse, a token trigger. Oh, believe you me, I AM afraid of dogs like anything. I fear them more than groupies with a lawyer, but the day I packed up (well, in true Bohemian style, I didn’t actually pack anything), I packed up because I needed an exit strategy. In a way, I’d been waiting for a means to preempt the hawks and the wolves out there, the carrion-eaters cum friends. But it was I who flicked at the switch. The sole perpetrator of my destiny can only be me. The day I disappeared I killed myself without dying, and in so doing, cheated death itself. Right now, I’m living my self-devised Copernican revolution, for it is nothing less than that; a revolution. Where do you go when you have reached the top, when you have, in essence, found the cheating code for the computer game that is life? Sure, mundane boredom is a part of it, but what afflicted me, and the course that I hence plotted transcends such prosaic lack of thrills. It touches on the metaphysical. I suspect Cassandra could be a mere manifestation of this, a mental projection. But what does that make the Devil-Dog of Svalbard? The dark energy that drives my existence and universe away from home, flying faster and faster? Is my life’s line a dotted trajectory between this Deamon God of evil and the feline Omega that is Cassandra? Do they exist at all? Do I? …and you?