The yogi and the commissar.
We think the warrior is the enemy of peace; if only everyone would lay down the arms all the battles would end. We're so tired of fighting, we've seen how far the commissar is willing to take it; further than we ever dreamed, trying to imagine ourselves as generals as children.
And so the yogi sits on the ground, ceases his endless movement here and there, his endless choosing of yes this and no that. But there is endless pressure. The pounding of hunger on the inner walls of his body. The ache of loneliness as he rests alone under a tree, as he is a human after all.
But do not be fooled into thinking the yogi is not a warrior. His expression is grim, his weapon is inaction. He wields it with less ruth than the most lethal assassin. He slices through time, and everyone that seeks to make him into a tool finds nothing but chains of inaction draped around them.
Chains that drag them down. The yogi wasn't going anyway anyway, if the commissar must draft him into his plans, he will only find the most agreeable slacker sitting behind a button in a lonely room. And, when it comes down to it, when its time to act, he simply will not do what he is told.
Trying to discipline humans is like trying to close Pandora's box. We quake in the power of our own free will, only wishing to know our will, to calm the savage beast of desire. If we cannot stop ourselves from exploding into expressions of freedom, how can someone else hope to?
But the commissar is convinced time is on his side.
He has his hands of 7 pieces of the sacred golden disc.
And he believes everything he's heard about its powers.
"Power?" The pussycat made the owl hoot with delight as they sailed in their pea green boat.
ReplyDeleteOur most quantum expression of power would be if all human hearts could unite into the spirit from which they were created. Such a feat!
It is the dark overlord of the human mind that creates the commissar. It is the expression of the human heart that makes him disappear. For their can be no darkness in the presence of light. If that's not freedom, than nothing is!
But the disc is incomplete. There is a piece missing, fractured like so many extra terrestrial things in this world. And a man, Simon, a mehume holds its piecing, inferring its awe but not comprehending its power.
ReplyDeleteHis life had become very different since his strange vision. This artifact had become a center piece to his life. He wore it around his neck on his chest. Whenever he undressed he would see it. Everything he lay his eyes upon, was significant.
He didn't know how yet, but he was filled with a burning desire to share this new found technology with his friends.