With new eyes

The revelation that unveiled the enemies and brought into existence a better understood hope.

It was like a crash course in humanity, humility, and friendship; the rare opportunity to get to know someone so fast. To be let inside and allowed the privilege to read pages of their book for no real reason other than a spontaneity that unfortunately only comes with the few rare connections that happen among random individuals. To be freed from the feeling of true loneliness that I’ve felt for most of my life and be shown the incalculable and unexplainable joys of watching the world take shape where it had once lay flat.

 

And then to watch it all be lost to an unknown abyss, spare the impact.

 

The world is suffocating with life and yet with each successive generation we find ourselves more and more alone. We carry the books of our lives next to us as if it were our shadow, it’s what has made us into what we are and for a lack of any better understanding, it’s our blood; it’s the reason we are. But with each additional year we find ourselves amidst a society that has learned, as we are learning, not to share that book with others. To share the reason of our being with no one, may no one be trusted but ourselves. And so to ourselves we keep it while we walk through the crowd and ignore all the faces, investing in a culture of hopelessness.

 

A culture where Shame in its glorious throne can cast us down into such prisons even whilst we surround ourselves with company; where Deceit weaves itself into the fabric of our lives making sure we can never truly escape our prison without the pain of pushing through the razor-wire of truth, the same old truth that we called our friend until we were won by temptation; where Hate in its seductive vigor draws our strings and stretches our will thin, and in its deeper throes can use our past to bend the mind against itself and keep us too weak and too frail to bear the scars. Where Worry takes the power of our imagination and with it robs us of our courage and our insight; where Pride talks us into becoming fools who seek false crowns; where Monotony washes our minds into the dazed lull that sedates our passions, and where Anguish pushes us to find quick and uncalculated escapes to occupy our mind.  There are many hands that like to move our pieces around the board and it seems at times that we might never find the edge to which we may escape and feel the weightlessness of the fall. Save for the one whose grace illuminates the field, the only one who lets us move our own pieces; the one who I had such a chance encounter with not long ago.

 

My only hope is that its strategy isn’t so random; that the non-pattern might only be a byproduct of a higher logic or wisdom that can only be effective in its absence of existence; for existence is synonymous to limit, and it cannot know ideas such as 'impossible' if it’s to conquer all things. Indeed, it is my hope that its boundlessness is a more accurate description of what feels so arbitrary to those of us who are so limited. A power so delicate and so strong, as it depends solely on the vigor of our belief in it.

 

And thus my education has begun.

 

Author's Note

Please do not be afraid to share your criticisms. They are welcome in any fashion. **Note: There is a small level of obscurity that I'm trying to achieve without losing the reader all together, criticism on this area is most welcome.

Reviews

[Duane Klinger]

i agree with megean, clarity and mechanics do need a bit of work, but hey, i got problems with them too, a lot of problems actually. I enjoyed this write a lot, though it allowed me to open my eyes a bit and take a look at life. its not often that you find writings that you are able to make a true deep conncection with but you succeeded in writing one. very nicely done
MKLINE

[THE [ME]GEAN]

Its very good. My favorite line is "The world is suffocating with life and yet with each successive generation we find ourselves more and more alone." The only thing I would say needs work are mechanics and clarity. Every writer hates those two terms but its true. Keep plugging and i'm looking forward to reading more.