A lanky young man with what many describe as an easy face sits in the midst of a motley crowd. It is his turn to say something, they say. He says he is delighted. They ask him who he is. He tells them his name but not much else. As he continues to speak, some cut in and say he makes them feel precisely the way he says understanding how to achieve means more than just feeling an aspiration after all. He accepts that in itself, that means a lot, but counsels the acquisition of what he refers to as a potential wellspring of inspiration.
He says he is no longer taken aback to hear comments on his credentials being questionable for what many openly deem his inexperience, but more so, what they say he claims to be the source of his inspiration, mystic transcendence. He says he empathizes with those that say he is fake, even a fraud. He admits it is difficult for some to see the inner meaning of things not because they are inherently defective. Rather, he says, his mission partly predicates on achieving the right mix of delivery to facilitate imbibing what all present in fact, need to, and urgently too.
He says he is no séance. They argue about what he is, not to mention, the even more heated positions they take on who he is. They admit that at twenty two, he seems to exude a certain confidence on his position that confounds them more so with him simply showing up essentially incognito, and as many insist, in an entrenched worldview. He says he does not engage in discussions about his identity, although he likes to be clear about what he is and his goal, which latter he often says is more important than appellations but which incidentally they say he has the most problem articulating.
He presses on, he says to be sure he reaches as many as he has not much time left, wherever he goes, the moment he starts there. He says it is a countdown that signifies the urgency of the matter he tries to convey. He hints of his past being a continuum with his present but not necessarily with his future. He says he tries to get across the realization of the goals inherent in us all that is common to everyone, and the apparent lack of understanding of whose meanings keeps coming in the way of the feeling that we so cherish yet so often eludes us.
They ask him what he means by the truncation in motion he often talks about moving forward. He says it is because the motion spares us some control over the matter. He argues that we are therefore able to choose to shun ruining our health but rather, apposite to fostering it, to meditate for example to relax, to be free and happy as in general, we seek. This he says underlines the urgency of his message, so we do not squander that edge. Some smile wryly, others contempt etched on their faces, but most visibly wrapped in attention as he speaks.
He says some want to know who he is, and why his name seems as if he craves stealth. He contends that this is precisely why it is so, as he wants to start anew, something he says they clearly also do, albeit in ways that suggest simply assuming a parasitic mould on the past. He concedes that most are leaving home for the first time, hence may find it hard not to cling to the past that they profess to want to leave behind. He says he does not blame them for the toga they wear now strewn all over which are imprints of the relics of which the moulds are, which essentially he argues is a drag on their forward motion, so long as they are unable to see the need for a new one even if through the lenses others wear.
They admit that this is what they have come where they are to do, but insist his posturing belies an emptiness that they do not hide under a veneer of mystic revelation. He says they do not have to be mystic to appreciate the responsibility implied in what they now want to do, the achievement of the goal implicit in which endeavour they owe at least to themselves not allow what they do not seemingly realize that they should not continue to do to compromise.
They say he is just odd, and unsociable, even jealous he lacks company to merry as they do. He says they define that concept in ways that suit their parasitic mould, one he says is unsustainable, the realization of which fact he insists, is why his mission is contingent on time, since they would all soon disperse to confront what may seem an unconscionable disregard for a degradation of the human spirit manifest in an antithesis to the prevalent notion of freedom with a mutual streak.
He argues that even those that drop out now may achieve this tendency to venerate the interlock of ecstasy and freedom, but do invariably embrace the view of the interdependence of the human spirit. He argues that the talent lurking within them that makes for this realization is not necessarily universal, which he says is why assuming the appropriate perspective now enhances the realization that many may lack the resources so to do otherwise.
He says it is okay to leave the past behind, the smoothness implied in its peculiar dependence undertone alien to the realities of an interdependent world, which is why he says he advocates other means than those ultimately destructive of achieving the underlying emotional state that in general we pursue, the happiness that we assume comes with freedom, but which he insists eludes us, freedom considered absolute, but permeates us, seen in tandem with responsibility.
He says he already notices the jitter in some, what they admit is an internal alarm. He says it confirms his arguments about being free defined correctly. Many agree bondage fits more being controlled by an internal clock to ingratiate an ephemeral spirit whose attainment remains elusive, even as its increasingly insatiable lust evidently drives a parasitic mould. He sighs as the nods trump the sideways motion of the very seat he says of the judgement all need to wear the appropriate spiritual toga, and showers disperse the crowd.
