In an Dream

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The chosen one is here.
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Everyone is different, when we lay to slumber we visualize different things, dreams, and nightmares. These force-filled images have the power to hinder or inspire the trek down life's path. But where do these sparks derive their seemingly infinite power, our imaginations do require energy. The power to choose, to be, to do, to create the traits that of which make us as humans the "most" intelligent. Members of our society, humanity of course, have arisen and achieved awe-inspiring feats of intellectual achievements. These ideas have brought mankind both happiness and suffering: Nuclear Theory/ Atom- Bomb, Gun Powder/ Lethal Projectiles, Vaccines/ Bio-Chemical Weapons, Schools/ Jails, War/ Freedom, Ethics/ Justice.

To get ahead with my message I must share with you an additional perceptive. No man is lesser than another, no man is smarter than another, some are born with a natural insight or ability to ease unscathed through life, and others have to attain it. Mankind must always remember that we have potential to achieve more, but we must ask ourselves, "what is it that we truly want"? It is an honor for me to do what I feel is the most beautiful of all things to do, communicate with those I have met for the first time.

A boy was born into the world, one he was told, as he slowly matured, was one full of sin. His mother and father were very hard workers, strong in their faith, and so the boy too. The parents were proud of their son, realizing he had a special gift, some said an annoying curiosity. The boy's favorite question to ask was, "why"? As he grew he learned many things from his parents; he was told he was different and that others would treat him unfairly and harshly, think less of him. At school he didn't learn much about himself, why he was different, why the other kids learned about their past and not his, how to deal with his newfound sadness. He was told to keep his head held high and that he would just have to outdo the rest, show everyone.

The first shadow of gray on the young child's world of light and innocence, not a violent crime; a whisper from someone looked up to, a gust unearthing the yet unfounded roots. The experience of a waking nightmare, a concept still not fully grasped, a wondering stirring in the glowing mind. Seeing again the classmates, teachers, and television in a different spectrum, one of less brilliance. Friends and peers disappearing and showing up again, changing, and choosing their paths. Time, doing what it does, continues on, the young boy is closer to being a young man. Eyes' becoming weary of what was once the largest daydream and the world now seeming tactile and cold.

The blanket losing its insulating attribute against the piercing cold, he must now struggle to stay warm. More and more he realizes and tries to establish his place in the confusion. Schedules now having to be met, money needed to be made, and choices decided upon that could help or hurt future's finale. Still asking why, but now seeking and demanding answers. He reached into the depths of his heart and asked his parents, the Lord, "why must it be so"? The voice of his parents the only being heard, "it just is", "life isn't fair", but also "you have potential", "you are a V.I.P". The boy prayed and didn't hear the voices his parents did, did not speak the tongue as they did when they were touched by the Holy Spirit. Hope began to leave his heart and nothing but disparity and apathy filled his soul.

Lying and cheating wasn't so hard, until he saw the resulting consequences and the ambience of hurt emitted from the weeping eyes of those who had brought him into this world. He cried out and became frustrated with everything, he asked to be able to understand, that was a plea from a weak heart, mercy for his own mind. He looked in the bottle to try and forget, smoked to try and cope, and other unmentionables to try and get by. Nothing was able to suffice what was now void, he slept in his own self made sea.

The sun grazed across the salt dried face of the young man. Looking about he noticed the world appeared different. Relations between this and that were easy to comprehend; he was able to solve his own "why-equation". As he learned to "see" with his new blessed sight, he felt compelled to tell it to the world. Most of what was said was thought to be stupid, people couldn't understand his ideas, their panorama of perception simply a dot. With the voicing of his views came the suppressing strangulation of a mob driven "society" calling itself, "civilization". The "that's impossible", "quit dreaming", take your head out of the clouds", bearing their heavy load.

Sadness fell upon the young man once again, this time those differences of view from the masses taking love away from him, and the ability to do so as well. Red filled his soul, hatred and anger, ironically which shares the same symbolic colors of love and life. The voice could no longer be heard because of his unwillingness to hear it, there was too much blood in his ears. Sensing the feeling of being alone, he shrunk his world into a dense dark fog, less pride, weaker ambition, circa forfeiture. The gift given was now a curse, eyes becoming aflame with the salty saturation of tears, not being able to see clearly as he had once thought.

Time progressed more aggressively, the weathering of experiencing so many winds were leaving mark and showing stress. After becoming lost, those close to him, by natural instinct, found him and nurtured him with love, the strongest emotion able to be shared with another being. He used the eyes he once cursed to see the "why" of their choices all the while they still not being able to see his picture, hear his words, or see "him"; this powerful force brought forgiveness and a willingness to go on. The energy was tenfold the force of all the winds' gusts, tornadoes bellows.

The young man willed himself to become a man. The quest to discover who he really was and how he would live his life. Choosing now to help those who didn't have that outreach of grace, he saw the cause of all the worlds' misery, he had to expose it. Once again going back to the voice that comforted him even before he knew his parents, he beckoned a request. Asking with a strong heart, he asked to know the truth. The voice responded, "those who learn the truth often turn away from it". The man responded, "I must know, it is the only way I can be who I am, do what I know I was meant to do". The voice said, "even though you denied me, I will not tell you another thing, you can only know it if you see it yourself". The man fell into a slumber deeper than the deepest he had ever known. Floating, floating away he began to drift along a river there were no maps for.

He saw himself as a young babe, being held for the first time by his parents, the vision contained the perception of innocence. He saw the warmth of love emanating from mother to child, how readily the baby absorbed it. This was when he remembered the world to look its most beautiful, all things gaspingly vibrant. The man looked closer into the vision, peering into the novice eyes of the infant. He noticed they were wandering about at lightning speed, absorbing the things around him, already becoming aware, every object he saw, white with purity. The picture became reverse, things pushing one way were pushing the next, things bright now black as ink. The man saw what he refused to see before, that there was juxtaposition to everything, and everything is in acquiescence to everything else, and that is what brings about equality. What was seen could be seen more than one way all the while it never really changes.

The pictures moved in quicker succession, the man was now seeing things through his eyes as well as those around him. He was seeing now what was asked of the voice originally, the perceptions of others. Everything he was told to be was duller than the things observed on his own; things were more interesting and bright when the man did "look" at these things himself. People were seeing a mixture of the actual and the supposed "factual". They weren't seeing the things that were told "are" but seeing things as they told "were". Everything was speckled white and black, things people didn't find out for themselves seemed better untold, it only lead to blindness. He realized his whole life he was programmed to see as others interpreted the world. He then told himself he would use his eyes and begin to "see" all over again.

More pictures swooshed by in the streaming flow time placed them in and the man saw himself sitting upon a park bench as a young man. The wind was still and so the world around him felt the same, he saw himself listening. A tear with a slight taste of sweetness as he remembered that day hearing so clearly, the harmony of tolerance. Hearing the many sounds of the wilderness singing together in a chorus of an unparalleled harmony. He was now able to hear the difference between beauty and ugliness. The wind was no longer muffled by the shudders of denial it could not hide its dangerous intent. A rumbling sounded and a huge bulldozer ravished through the park, the animals screaming sounds of water surging, shrills of chatter, utter chaos was abound.

One at a time the man was able to "see" everything he had seen again and again. Each time seeing things differently looking not just with his eyes, but with all of him. He realized everything wasn't strictly a science, or strictly spiritual, they existed because of each other. Slowly the pictures were catching up to him in the present, they were becoming brighter, and all things were new to him again, just as when he was a child. Simplicity was granted, things were seen for what they were, hope and joy filled the heart and planted their roots.

Swooomp! The man felt a thud, as he felt as if he had fell from the sky, his heart was racing, and he was awake. In bed pondering all of what he had learned, remembering it steadfast. He looked around at what he knew to be his home, the world around him, and now knowing he shared it with all other living things. He saw that he owned it but shared it at the same time, the burden had been lifted. He now was able to tell people his views as well as hear theirs; he saw a way to bring in mankind an ear to hear that sweet lullaby of peace. A new sense of responsibility was sensed, all that he knew to be he could not turn away from. Untruth was an aberration of reality, which was a screen put over people's eyes, it had to be lifted and never looked through again. People were told that difference was bad, that another man's reality was of know worth, they believed it to be that way, and saw it as such wherever they looked. The man had a cognition that made him nearly cry aloud . . . . . . . . . . All that was believed by many was only known to the few. The views of the individual rejected, as the preying eyes of the mob embraced. Using his gift of understanding for what he now knew it was, he pondered long and hard. Cycling at lightning speed all the factors of all the equations that made our universe tick, adding, subtracting, and dividing things large and small. Finally the answer came out to zero; there was only there what he put there, and not there what he himself had taken away.

A perfect balance, man could not fight if he understood his neighbor, that the force of love was to create and that of hatred to destroy. Man would not resort to malice towards others, because he would see that negativity put in is what he would receive back. He knew he had to be a man, he knew he had to do what a man was supposed to do, he knew he needed the things a man had to have. The message the man had to deliver was, "If you seek the truth you must first rid yourself of the truth of others, because all men's hearts are not innocent like that of a babe, cleanliness does not derive from filth. Second you must look with all your senses, not just the ones you were told you have, that's the only way to truly know it for yourself. Finally you must assist your fellow man in survival by sharing and boosting potential through giving them their eyes back and an opportunity to learn based upon pure observation."

Again the man would like you to remember that this was his reality, a world experienced apart from you but wanted to be shared with you. We as man have the power to imagine a world with no suffering; we have the power to make that a reality. We can dream of ourselves as great people and contributors, and as being loved, and cherished, then we as man must use our potential and manifest our dreams into a reality.

We strive everyday to simplify our lives by creating more complex facets and devices. We have forgotten about the things that make us human, the great responsibility we have to others and ourselves. Earlier I exemplified some achievements of our essence, if we have the power to destroy we also have the power to preserve and nurture. The voice the man heard had a name, but he preferred to keep it to himself, because the voice was heard with his ears alone. Everyone has this voice, we all will hear different things, the things we choose to hear, as a word of advice listen closely and that voice will one day tell you his name, and then and only then will you know him and yourself.

It's all how you look at it!

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