Verbal warfare through radical ideals

A Thousand Steps


Step one; as I disembark from my vehicle, the first thing that can be remarked upon is the glare of the sun. That immortal fiery glow burning into the windows at sunset is something reminiscent from my earliest days of recollection. A timeless memorial to my first experiences in “the real world”, and simply put a wonderous spectacle of lights and sounds brought together to appreciate social interaction, intermingled in the depths of a labyrinth of marketing.

Step 83; The rich aroma of freshly baked cookies, and fast food formulas all thrown into the same hall to entice the weary traveller into their midst. The tables, scattered carefully across the room not only showed the distinct social groups; the eerily silent white noise of the crowd seemed to carry no voice at all. No distinguishable features, nor characters. It was as if all were vaguely aware that an outsider lay before them, and whether they recognized who it was or not, they lay in wait for them to reveal themselves.

Step 121; Rounding the hall, the many cliques of superficial goddesses dragged onwards, as if driven through by their mistresses through the lands of gluttony. Fake smiles and laughs alike are traded amongst the avaricious circles of tyrants wandering these lands. Glares of disgust are recklessly cast towards those nearby, as if a silent contempt drew a line in the metaphorical sand around them. It wasn’t unheard of, but unspoken it may have been. What was or could have been, thrown aside in favor of elitist attitudes and decaying morality.

Step 184; As I glanced over the railing to the floor below, I found myself carefully reviewing things that were none of my business, but somehow mistakenly brought my cold stare upon them. The kiosk shopkeeper’s disregard for her own items as adolescents approached to swiftly rip off a few dollars worth of cell phone accessories. The careless adult with devious intentions staring lustfully at underage girls as they crossed paths on their way to the movie theater. The group of young boys purposefully thrusting an ignited lighter at each other in a dangerously playful fashion. As I averted my eyes, the heavy nature of what I now come to see as irresponsible and immoral makes me aware of the fact that I don’t think like others, and more often that not I make my worries that which others should be concerned with.

Step 260; A pass by the arcade brings me back to my earliest days of longing for social acceptance. As multiple children stand by, excitedly ushering their friends to the dance dance revolution machine, others move forward in an attempt to showcase their abilities, and type A personalities. This exercise in futility; an insipid aspiration that will fade in time is all that crosses their mind as they believe what they are seeing now is eternal in essence. If only they understood the brief encounters they now share for what they are, perhaps they would become as jaded as I have to the realities of vain relationships. As I recalled these times of my own, I looked forth into the positives that I retained from these experiences. The general comfort of not having to execute caution, as I understood what a warm blanket the false security of many acquaintances held. This was the aegis of youth, and for that I could say I survived for a long time as a firm believer that such things were important, if in fact they actually weren’t.

Step 339; The pointlessly hopeless view of a store catering to the needs of new-life rained its wave of depression upon me. The inability to avert my eyes brought upon a torrential downpour of remorse, of things I would’ve done differently. The need to reproduce is the most basic of human needs, as it sustains the ideals of legacy, and immortality. It’s instinctual, and the most fragile of all burdens to put upon oneself. I knew that for however much I wished for this scenario, this flawless Eden incarnate of pure euphoric transcendence, I could not reach it. The state of mind in which I’d place myself in this situation is so far from the present, that in all reality it might as well not exist at all. I’ve neither the second party, nor the stability to ascertain such a goal. In fact, as I stared into the cradle located in the front window I realized not only did I want this, I wanted it bad enough to conjure fake faces in distant places within my mind. I don’t know if it’s because I couldn’t let it go, or because I refused to. This part, I don’t control.

Step 392; As I descended upon the escalator, the furor of an unknown source could be heard nearby. As I stopped into the store where the noise resounded, a familiar sight was brought before my eyes. A less than intellectual female in her mid 50’s stood brazenly rigid at the counter. Her face, a grimace of confused intolerance showed me that not only was she not aware of what was going on, she didn’t care anymore. The accent of the man behind the counter, thick and peppered with an understanding of its sometimes incoherent misinterpretations maintained a calm expression as he reiterated his previous statement to the lady. Her instantaneous reaction was the imminent explosion we all thought it would be. She stormed out, shouting profanities galore and needless racial slurs in the hopes that somehow the store clerk would be inflicted somehow with a sense of isolation in this already ridiculous hodge-podge of cultural paint spatters. As I approached the counter to pay, I exchanged a grin with the clerk. “This fuckin country eh”, I remarked while handing him my cash. As he pulled my change from the register, he looked in my eyes with a grin himself and said, “I love this country.  It’s her I have a fucking problem with”.

Step 454; With a steadfast pace I approached a bit of eye candy. The beautiful trench coat that lay before me smelled of a wonderful leather odor, inviting me into’s warm sleeves and cold appearance. If ever I had felt that my skin were a disguise, it would be within the presence of such wonderful apparel. Perhaps it was the sense of comfortable warmth that it brought, or maybe even the feeling that finally there was a type of clothing designed for me, but I felt at that moment that I was home. This piece of clothing was not only one of my favorites, it brought my thoughts that much closer to my favorite season. Being July, it’s not as simple as I’d like to forget the scorching heat, or thoughts of vacation that only the throat of winter brings me. The coat I shall return for in time, but the memories it brought in that moment revitalized me.

Step 577; Whenever I come across a bookstore, I’m at home. The initial glee that it brings me to re-enter my safe haven is always a welcome emotional state. As I browsed through the shelves of countless wonders, I lost my sense of escape momentarily. A glance around me brought on the cruel realization that however alone I wasn’t, was a mere illusion to cover up my isolation brought on upon by the glimpse of friendly faces in the pages of my happiness. I realized then that I was in fact the only person in this section, and that the majority of consumers and my generation were anxiously sifting through the latest teen novels and children’s literature, something that was as unfulfilling to me as the people themselves. In my land of rational thought, and appreciation for the lives of those long lost, I stood amongst those who considered me insane, at the shelf which no other person stood. My thoughts would occupy this for an eternity it seemed.

Step 725; It seemed endless as I reorganized the priorities within my mind. How far have I come to become what I am? In becoming the Prometheus that I so desired to be, have I shed what was left of my innocence? When it comes time for me to stop, will there be anything left? Will I ever stop? How many people have been affected by my actions, and how did I think severing all of the connections would be wisest? From the dawn of my newfound attitude to the twilight of its existence, I will have known nothing that is regarded as important to those around me. The third basic need of the human psyche will have almost completely escaped me, and with that any chance I have being truly happy may evade my grasp entirely. Is it not better to seek knowledge, rather than belonging? I can’t tell anymore, and I’ve pushed myself far too long to not heavily debate anything with a heavy recourse of contemplation. As I strolled through purgatory, it would not be until I approached that ill-fated turn would I regain my sanity.

Step 910; And then it happened. As I rounded the last right turn bringing myself ever closer to my final destination, I would be met with all I cannot tolerate. Through vermilion rays of light, your face became visible. The unexpected, and undeserved joined together to forge this worst of meeting places. Within the confines of this small hallway, I found how to discover that like emptiness. With heed forcefully paid the opposite direction, your eyes now moistened in a relative recognition of whom you have so offended. As I stood completely still, separated by a chasm of 20 meters of treacherous air you ushered yourself out as quickly as possible. There could be no mistaking the absolute certainty that not only did you purposefully reroute to avoid the anguish of facing me, your idiotic postmortem image that you now carried could not hide the shame you endured in those brief moments of bleak contact. You now truly embrace the look of the world’s most expensive puppet, being dragged ever so coyly by the hands of your master.

Step 1,000:

With a feeling of satisfaction, and an air of doubtful reassurance behind me, I climbed into the seat of my car. The heat, no longer an issue made little difference as beads of sweat collected on my brow. I received nothing that I desired out of this trip, and yet it seemed as if something had been accomplished unconsciously. Almost like a victory for the synesthetic mindset, a new spectrum of wonderous possibilities unfolded before me. These possibilities created new boundaries however, plateaus that must be climbed in due time. I’ve yet to figure out the ironic timing, and rather inconvenient truth behind this eerily placed musical interlude. It seems almost as if something outside of my control has interfered with my traversion across the plane of my own self-recognition. As if one or more have conspired against me, in an attempt to fuel my will or further promote my ideology as what I know to be true. Whatever it is, I’m not comfortable with it and now my mind won’t shut the fuck up about it. However, the verse upon entering my car remains the most peculiar of variables to the situation, as I usually choose the track and only now does it hauntingly settle upon these words by Opeth.

Words would falter to atone
Failure had passed the stepping stone
She sworn her vows to another
This is when no-one will bother

-Jake

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