Monday, September 18, 2006

London in the Mind

While it would be typical for any message to be comprehended through a logical line of thought, where steps are explained in its traditional fashion, with the chain described part per part, until the link is shown to the end. Messages seem to appear in its different forms, as chaos on the different stories show its stranger color, stranger as it seem when it doesn’t connect, the bigger picture seems to play otherwise. These are stories that doesn’t play in the same line of thought, and it would be expected that they won’t even complement each other, but there is a connection somewhere, like in everything else, the web has its many features.
To which the story points to an old man who has just opened the door to the attic in his little apartment. Dusty would be the first word describing the aged and fragile surroundings, the age of the building is yet older than the man, who, in his 80s, keeps himself busy moving his mouth. It is theorized that he is saying something, others would state he is eating, but its secret would be kept until the book of world records would declare him the man who has moved his mouth the longest, a good 68 years.
More than this, this fragile man has been expecting his own demise for quite some time now. He has been waiting for the cloaked to visit him, of whom he suspected has lost his address, or has missed it out. He puts his hands on his pockets as he views the window in the attic, overlooking a well-preserved and historic city. Noise could now be heard from his moving mouth, as he is addressing the window with another observation.
“Beauty, could only exist, if its creator has put effort to make it beautiful. Beauty is limited though, to the limitations of the creator. In effect, beauty made by an infinite creator would be beauty unimaginable. Beauty, like truth, should be able to surpass the boundaries of time, and still be considered beautiful, otherwise, there was no effort to make something truly beautiful, for which reason it is later found plain, or even worse, unpleasant. Beauty is, in its very core, pleasing to the senses, as it is to be intended. Beauty is only appreciated by those who are being targeted by the creator, but it can surpass its blessings to others as well.”
“Beauty, like truth, is truth, like beauty. Beauty proves that truth does exist, if one can indeed see beauty that surpasses time, he can understand that truth can exist. Truth exists in nature, as does beauty has demonstrated. Like truth, beauty is not beauty if it isn’t timeless.”
The man quiets down as his curiosity is aroused by a man on the street, he picks his binoculars to observe the man, who has now put a soap box down on the walkway, and stands on it. We are now brought to the man on the soap box, who, at the top of his lungs, declares, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I do exist, and am not a ghost. I walk these streets everyday, and yet no one notices my existence. Yet when our dear mayor walks along, his presence if noticed and reciprocated with a greeting. What does it take for a man to exist?”, these are all said while the world is still actually ignoring him, and is still ignoring him, except for the beggar on the street, laughing at another nut on the road, as he is getting used to meeting their types in his occupation, to which he has replied the following.
“Fear not, for you do exist, and are not a ghost. Just like the other 6 billion people. But to acknowledge and be aware of their existence is a different story, for you are just the rest. Awareness would greatly depend on your substance, as that of the rest of them. You have to convince the rest to notice your existence through your substance or story. And it is only when you have given sufficient people sufficient reasons on why you exist could you truly exist, otherwise, join me here, and exist solely to yourself, it is not as bad, and you can observe the world without the need of the hassle of having to communicate with the rest of them. Unless you really are interested in their thoughts, do not talk to them, it saves a lot of time and effort, and you can then focus solely on what you would like to do best, for me, it is to beg. Strange as it may seem, I did dream of being a beggar once, and was given the utmost opportunity to be born one.”
Of course, like all crazy beggars, after a good mouthful of words has been poured out, it has to be sifted and filtered for sense, which is again subjective to what you want to learn, to what you don’t know, and what you really want to hear, as demonstrated by the two men sitting on the park with their coffee on their hands, quiet about the whole ordeal. These two retired men sip their coffee, realizing this day could have been better if someone actually remembered to bring the chess board. Anyway, what is done is done, and they now take another sip, observing the crowd from their chair, while the less senior comes up with something to say.
“It is a sin for two retired men to sit on the park bench drinking coffee without their chess board. In fact, it is beyond sin, it could be a grave criminal offence with a death sentence. It is a strange sight for two old men not to have their chess board in a park bench and would make people wonder. This is sin and boredom combined. And when there’s a boring sin it is a very regrettable sin indeed. If the sin committed did not feel worthwhile during its implementation and in fact was very boring, then a good half hour of our lives was spent in a total useless fashion.”
“Go back home to your wife then”
“You don’t understand, when men retire the more they don’t look forward to meeting their wives, as it is our only way for being punished for our sins.”
“Go back and get the chess board then”
“And meet the wife, as said, and I strictly refuse to take the sacrifice, for I have done so all my life. Working is working, and was always working. Now that I do not have any plans of giving anything back in society, I do not see any sense in getting stuck to being punished for being old. How long would it take evolution to change these leaves to have checkered marks?”
“It would be strange indeed that we wait for evolution to do adapt to our needs, as it has always been, when we have reached that point that we have knowledge to adapt to whatever is in our environment. We have started to devolve to having to wait for evolution to make our chessboard leaves and different berries shaped at the different characters in chess. What is more ridiculous would be sitting and ranting, or standing on the soap box and ranting, when silent actions can also bring results. Ranting without suggestions would also not help, for we are waiting for someone to come up with an idea to our problem, the problem which we have no idea to solve. It would be more interesting and effective if we propose the solution too, and keep it logical.”
“Fine, I’ll get the chess board”
And so the man took the bullet of meeting his wife. In his journey he left his comrade to sit on the bench all alone, staring at the walkway, sipping his coffee. Moments after the cotton candy cart passed by, a group of Hare Krisnhas passed by chanting and dancing. He did remember a few decades ago, when he did take in some curious interest in their teachings. Like many of them, he left and went back to where he was. But he does know and understand that at some point he has learned something from all the teachings he has gone through, and as he goes through his life, some of the teachings that he found sense in unconsciously was being put into use. In the midst of their travel, he was given a flower for which he did reciprocate with a smile and a “Hare Krishna”.

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