It was his only day off. The only holiday he could get to break free from the chains that suffocated his lungs and brain and heart. The only holiday that could evaporate the heaviness in the air, the white smoke that carried the screams of his boss and the sinking clouds. He wanted to run, to speak, to feel his organs and bones moving rather than helping a machine to stay alive. He wanted to live, like how other people would, the ones with feet sweeping the grass and eyes painting the skies. His world was nothing. His life was nothing, nothing but a blurry image from the tears that swallowed his tongue.
And if he could have one holiday, one day of freedom, he would spend it on earth, just earth. Or, perhaps, the life side of it.
He ran to the park, to the place where nature and humans are both on the same ground, the same earth, the same soul. Living beside machines was his daily life, beside soulless machines that only gave benefits to the dull and greedy, the ones living in their own blizzard.
He gently walked on the grass and felt it brush away all the drains of misery and tiredness he had before. It was all new to him �" the trees, the people, the skies, the birds, and nature. He felt alive. He felt the presence of souls, the presence of living things that worked and felt and spoke in different languages, whether it was by a human’s tongue or a tree’s branch. They were all the same to him, and they were all connected to the place of a far greater soul, somewhere in the sky, or perhaps under his toes, but it was there. And although he never visited space, or traveled the earth, or swam the oceans, he felt like this was enough. This place, this moment, where two different living things meet with the same connection, the same souls.
Though, not everyone thought the same way he did. He turned his heard towards the people and saw a rope of cries and anger and sadness typing them up together. He didn’t understand. A kid began to cry and pull his mother’s dress till she could drive him back to city, the place where screens and buildings existed, the place of machines. Families were sat beside the playground with eyes stuck to their phone screens and a girl was sat on the swing with her iPod, perhaps too busy to swing, or too lazy. It didn’t make any sense to him. It reminded him of the factory, of the machines, of the darkness and soullessness. He saw the machines inside them. As if the machine they held outside would creep beneath their skin and suck out all the emotions and feelings they had before, which do not seem to exist anymore. They didn’t even notice, or even recognise the trees and the grass and the birds that he was aware of. As if their soullessness had detached them away from nature, from the place where livings things connect, where they all speak in the same language but in different forms. And it baffled him. He spends his entire life beside machines that do nothing but suffocate him with choking air and leak flaming tears down his face. He didn’t have that connection, that living thing connection he would have with a flower or a lion. He felt alive with nature, felt happier and calmer, as if it was his home, their souls was his home.
As he examined closer, he watched a young boy gulping down his face with tears and his head between the knees. Although the people seemed like soulless machines to him, there was still a cave of emotions in them, a spark of a living thing. And so he walked over to him to feel that spark he had been waiting to feel for a long while.
“Do you need anything? What seems to be the matter?” He asked with a tender smile.
Slowly, the boy positioned his face towards him, but with no sign of harmony.
“Go away. I want to be alone.” He said sharply, with no expression or connection.
The man was yet again reminded of the factory, of the machines. Though, he didn’t want to believe it. There is still a soul inside this human creature, still the presence of emotion, of a living thing.
“Being alone will do no good. Do not let your sadness control you, it will bury you under the ground without you knowing.”
The boy frowned, but then sighed, he’s not much of a machine after all.
“Alright, whatever you say.” He stretched out his legs and then spoke, “I just really want a laptop. My father promised to bring one for over 2 years and he never did. All my friends have it. Why can’t I?! It’s stupid, stupid.”
The man rolled his heavy eyes with frustration. Am I the only sick of these machines? he thought. It infuriated him.
After a moment of thinking, he saw a weak, frail puppy whirling around a tree, looking for the ingredient to keep him alive. He ran over it and picked it up excitedly, he knew the perfect tool to bring both living things into life.
“Look, this is far better than a laptop. Can’t you see it? It’s weak, it needs someone. And not only will you help him, but also help yourself. A laptop cannot do that. Trust me, it will never heal you at your dark times. You need a living thing to do that, you need a soul.”
The man said, squeezing his words through the metal gates of the young boy’s brain.
The boy studied the puppy carefully, then looked back at the man, still unsure on whether to agree or not.
“Alright, Alright. The puppy’s cute, I guess. I’ll take it. It’s not better than a laptop though…but I’ll take it.” The metal gates were opened.
Gently lending the puppy to the young boy, the man felt it again, the connection of two living things of the same soul. Though, he wasn’t sure if the boy had felt the same, perhaps he didn’t, for now.
“Time will tell you the truth, like it did with me. I promise you, it’s far better than a laptop.” The man smiled once again, though this time, he was sure of the cave inside the young boy, that spark of a living thing.
And somehow, just like how he creates machines and brings them into life, he felt the similar action done to the boy. Although he wasn’t entirely a machine, but, it felt like he was. The man didn’t create anything though, he simply helped him to find his connection with another creation, the one created by a different hand, a greater soul.
A creation that works far better than a machine, with better tools and plans.
We will never design machines as beautiful as the trees, he thought. Then walked back to his factory, with a soulless heart.
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