Sunday, January 17, 2010

Round and Round it Goes

So a man is born. Alright he isn’t born a man, but a child. Of course.
As he gets older he finds that his life always lends itself to certain situations.


No matter what he does, through no active part of his own, he always finds himself in these similar situations and in those situations he finds he must make a difference. So he does. He steps up to the plate and does what he can. Time after time.

Eventually the child is a young man and, accepting that his life will lead him into these situations, he prepares accordingly so when the situations occur, he is more ready to deal with them. He continues on the path that’s been seemingly laid out before him. It’s not a problem. It’s a purpose right? It gives life meaning. He’s been making people happy and lives better all the time, in big and small ways.


He thinks, ‘Hey! This isn’t so bad! People look to me for help and I’m helping! I feel pretty good!’ And he decides he’ll share in the happiness of the people. Why not? Just being in the company of those he’s helped makes him happy too. Great.

Then something odd happens.

They forget. They all forget. He’s not needed and they forget.

Why? Nobody knows and nobody thinks about it too hard either.

Except our young friend.


It’s then he realizes that his path leads him to people that need his assistance and that’s it. He doesn’t get to stick around.

He grudgingly accepts this. It’s still not so bad right? He’s got something that others spend their lives searching for.
So he continues on his way. He helps, he vanishes, people forget he was there and live their lives all the better for it. Perfect.

However the young man soon finds that he’s gotten quite lonely. He wrestles with his thoughts. He wants to find some happiness for himself. But is he meant to? Will his path let him? Why not?

He decides it’s ok for him to find some happiness too and that it’s fine if he wants more than this purpose of his. He never choose that path so it should be ok to find something he actively seeks for himself!


By chance he meets a girl. They are happy for a while and she understands when he speaks about his life. She gets it she says. He believes her. They are very happy for a while but then life once again intervenes and their paths take opposite directions.

She says she’ll love him always. He believes her again. Of course he does. Why not? He loves her too.

She forgets. Like all the rest. He dies a little inside.

It is then our young man decides that there is only the purpose and that everything else will not work. He becomes cynical in his views and his trusting nature is gone.

He becomes more efficient in those moments his life leads him too. He cuts through pleasantries and strikes at the heart of the problem, even using himself as a focus for peoples anger and hate so as to get their lives back on course.


The greater good.


Then suddenly he realizes he’s not got anything but those situations and that perhaps he never will.

That there may be nothing in this world for him at all but what he’s doing. Just this strange life of his.

And he’s not sure he likes it anymore.


-K

The Grand Delusion



Who are you?

A simple question.
How will you answer it?

With a name? Wrong answer. What does that tell anyone of who you are? I don’t care if your name is Robert or Clair or Metastophilies. I don’t. A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet and have the same thorns to bleed me dry.

I;ve never looked at a person and been able to go “Yeah. He’s a Robert alright.”


My question is not asking for your identification. It’s asking who you are, at your core.

What lurks behind those eyes and smiles and social masks?

Who are you in the trenches when the world falls down? Who are you late at night, when the world is sleeping?

Are you the man with the smiling face to cover the sorrow of a life long dream unfulfilled?

Are you the woman who cries silently into the darkness, for fear of what lives there?

Are you a fighter? A writer? A doer? A singer? A dancer? A god king in human skin? A hero who is waiting to begin?

Are you the puppet or the puppet master? The bringer or joy? The ender of lives? The one? The only? The last?

Who.

Are.

You?

Is there more to you, than the simple part you play, in the grand delusion?

Well?

Tell me then.

Who are you?

-K