One and Only

A rhyme bellows in their sleep while the prose prowls in wakeful light.

There are little myths that run rampant behind the veneer of who we are. Fantasies of what may come to this character, be they fanciful encounters, luxuries and laurels, or the luscious results of a life that suits celebrity. All in all, our heads muster dreams that follow the steps of someone we think we are, but fail to actually be. Single men and women dream of finding their fateful halves, and while listening to the sweet tunes on the radio, daydream of what it would be like, how they would act, and what would come of such sure serendipity.

The problem lies in the manner of that expression. For while in our dreams we may act in one way, in reality our actions follow quite a different set of rules. In our fanciful depictions of ourselves, the average man becomes his best, acts with precision and gleans the fruits of a harvest that is nearly impossible to avoid. He is sure of himself, unified and fortified like a knight on a holy quest, and even the laws of gravity submit to his calling. In real life, however, vulnerability is often missing in a man; the one and only quality that bestows true reward.

He has his hands raised and clenched into fists as his armour of personality protects him from feeling anything other than the most bland emotions. We have learned to protect ourselves unconsciously, with the soft kernel of a humble being tucked beneath blankets of steel. When reality is upon us, the steel behaves with clashing motions. In our dreams, the steel may or may not exist. But in reality, the steel rules all, and the laws of such a metallic persona is to say or do not what we really want, but to act by something altogether quite alien.

The best opportunities may come but the soft kernel will not be there to greet them. The steel will rob men of much and most of their promised bounties, simply by the fact that it is the steel that is present in the man when the moment arrives. So what else can a sane, realizing, being do in such a empty situation, if not struggle with himself in every moment? We speak not of the struggle of senseless, neurotic, suffering but the wakefulness of a man who knows the difference between what is authentic and what is not.

Vulnerability is the vouchsafe given from above, inherent in every moving thing. Men lose their way by the routines of a conditioned society, and so must unlearn everything in order that they be made able to access the fruits of their dreams. It is better to realize one’s position in hell and climb up passed purgatory, then to live with hands over our ears and eyes, humming insanely the rhymes of sleep. It is better to know what is real and what is not, to narrow the gap between concept and practical reality, and to begin to steal what steel has robbed from us many times before.


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