A man with Quintessential attributes is man society dictates as being dramatic, for such a man hate is the accepted emotion expressed whenever he is to be received.
“They” tear at him, doing their utmost best to peel him layer by layer to prove him a fraud. Waking up to a world where this man who refers to himself in the first person “I” is stoned because he represents an anomaly simply because the pinnacle is what he seeks to reach.
Being mindful and watchful of the things that should be assumed and things to be affirmed, knowing who to choose to hold onto account with the keys to personal success. The ocean looks like a bed, it’s blue sheets flat and accommodating creating a scenery so entailing and compelling but truly who knows the depths of her secrets? Snakes and ladders, crossing paths with the Devils eating on the same table but not from the same plate. The poisonous lips moving as they set obstacles the fangs oozing out foolish talk.
I am both sinner and saint, the man who the people have sacrificed, what life am I left to choose when all the doors before me have been closed and the only room I have is to accommodate the world. Maybe to die another day and live another life in different world may be the only solution to this predicament. To be jeered at and stoned constantly by the wagging of tongues verbal abuse leading to psychological alienation in a context so solid it weighs deep on the mind.
The package, the act, the show and the meal. What really is the deal? Is it a one course package or do I get a three course deal, the first essential but the latter societies image of what should be had. What does it mean to be lonely to be alone at the end of the day? We know that isolation is the state of being kept away from people but can we relate to this notion that society can cast you away and place you in transparent isolation. To be treated like a disease a plague by your peers to be avoided by those you once called friends.
Do I totally understand the implications of my words and actions or the belief that delay is dangerous, the medieval methods of judgement , and mishandling information? I left the cave to see how much the world had changed. My conclusion leaves the critics unimpressed with its lack of progress , the fundamental things don’t mean anything anymore. Society looks to be doing its best to discredit the laws of old but can’t seem to create theirs from nothing.
Who do I trust when the party is mainly comprised of hyenas? Whose words do I follow? What instruction set is comprehensible? To live a lifestyle with a false foundation built on a lie is unsettling. The drinks keep getting poured, the smoke inhaled into the lungs. Truth is kept away from this diet. There is difficulty in its digestion.
But what shall I be left with when all the wool is shaved from this sheep skin that I wear? I am exposed to the wolves who will hand me over to the hyenas because of title and label. I possess the confidence and I take on the title of savage, still the right moves are lacking although the swag is possessed, but for some reason emptiness and inadequacy rules over this whole affair of righteousness leaving I the passenger stranded in transit. “Progress is stillborn and stagnation amplified”. The world does not take notice of this and glides past it with all its immaculate contraptions put before the masses for mass direction. I remain the focus just like lights that flicker creating dazzling moments and distraction but pain eclipses it all as the only house to know progress is the house of shame.
The misrepresentation of truth is the popular fact of life, should I be forced to adhere to this lifelessness that is attributed to constant inaction and a lack of movement. All the lost do is claim independence, but how can they assume to know the light if darkened atmosphere clings to their souls? A barren land needs no seeds or investment, the soil it offers is a curse and abhors birth. Why waste energy reviving products past due dates? Truly a mundane existence is better than that!
They seat frequently to discuss the life of I, arguing about other men’s success. I wonder if they can spare time to plan for theirs?