Unachievable Results

By: Jonathan Seidel

Hostility or envious of the rich: the middle class conundrum with emerging freedom (Fromm, 95) 

The middle class dislikes the poor but they hate the rich. The rich are everything they have fallen short of. Everything they cannot have. Modernity provided the outlet to finally reach the pinnacle. Freedom to attain the riches. The American dream in sight but failing to prevail. Envy sprouting from the incapability. Having to work harder and yet unable to make it. Freedom has exposed a major liability. Here is the offer. Good luck.

Middle class-men were at a clear disadvantage from the rich. They had to start from scratch. The rich were given everything. Generational wealth as well as foundational land to work upon. Resources not privy to the newly freed man. Impassioned and inspired, the freed man searches for excellence. He works extra hard but is unable to compete. Without the proper tools he falls short quickly. He ventures to the the rich to borrow resources. A free man now enslaved to the rich. A debt he cannot easily pay. He has his own field but can only work his field with the rich’s tools. Thus a portion of the produce is allocated to the rich. The rich didn’t work the land but he provided the tools to be able to work it. Owning the means to produce allots him a substantial profit. Where would the free man be without his tools. The free man is part of a larger social group who can only receive tools from the rich who possess the monopoly. Naive and new to the game he is submerged in a quasi-slave mentality. 

He works and works. There is no break and no foundation to stand on. If he cannot attain his share he will lose his land. His land must be profitable to be maintained by him. A disastrous pickle. His hard work may not pay off. His fated failure may be sooner than he thinks. It is work or forever be under the thumb of the rich. Enslaved to his land or enslaved to a master. Both leave him without any control. Deprived of the sweet freedom he once aspired for. The hope for salvation was a vile satanic dream to make his life more miserable. Responsible for his own land has made him quite neurotic. He has no one to fall back on. No welfare to compensate his lost. He is alone figuring the world for himself. He comes from nothing and may return to nothing. It is all on his head. The yoke bears heavy on his aching shoulders. The difficult winter months only strengthen the yoke burdening his shoulders further. Part of him wishes to return to slavery. Return to the automatic compensation. Freedom is painful and jarringly isolating. 

His social circle has collapsed. Yet there is no turning back. There is no return to the salvaged slave life. He is now a struggling free man. He works and works to keep his land afloat. At times he loses his land to the rich. Paying a debt to win it back at some point. Maybe a surplus will bring in the necessary profit to win back his lost reward. The promise of hope in the capital inspires him to find a new role. Farming is much, maybe the industrial advances will be a better fit. Maybe a new trade is in order. The land has been in the hands for generations but every good thing must come to an end. Making his way to the big city is foreign but a start on the way to a new path. Poor and unsheltered he seeks employment. He picks up a newspaper from the ground and finds the available jobs. He makes his way to an interview astoundingly is accepted. With left over money he has from his hometown, he finds a small apartment to rent. His freedom hangs in the balance. The hope is to work hard enough to climb the ladder. Freedom is at the top of the hierarchy. He must pay fees but it is all in hopes of finally achieving his own space. 

As he succeeds, technological advancements make commuting easier. The city has been his home for a decades but the architecture out in suburbia is tempting. A house of his own then commute on the transit to his office. He can finally have something of his own. No more debt to the landlord, he is purchasing his own home. He has moved up in the company but is still an employee, yet there is time till he can be the VP right under the CEO’s son. Life in the suburbs is more flexible. Luscious green grass covers his backyard. Two stories with a playroom for a basement. He has qualified. He matches his house with the magazines. The American dream a mini-Rockefeller. The magazines do not lie. Look at those happy faces and styled attire. At his coronation to VP he exchanges his polo for a dazzled suit. Invited to the CEO’s house he marvels at its expanse. Wowed at the extravagance. Despite cleaning up he realises he is still below the bar. He is outmatched by his superior.  Arduous labour and he is yet to meet the CEO’s level of prestige and projection. 

With a seat at the table he attempts to meet their standard. He cannot. Their hats a fortune, their watches too expensive. He is neatly dressed but feels underdressed. He feels poor amongst his peers. He has attained so much and yet feels inferior materialistically. He is always one step behind. He has moved into a beautiful house, bought a nice car and wears designer clothing. It pales in comparison. Turning over to the president, he mirrors the CEO. Dressed in the CEO’s hand-me-downs passed the torch to keep the machine running. Feeling left out of the surplus chain, he invests his money for a larger return. He plans on upscaling to fit in. On one trip he realises the difference. He sat business while his boss sat first class. The first trip they took he could only afford economy while his boss leisured in business. Now he was in business class but his boss was in first class. He was just playing catch up. There was a clear financial divide. He was able to acquire the new thing by the time the next new thing came out. He was behind but trying to reach the pinnacle of wealth. For him, he was rising a little at a time but couldn’t seem to outmatch his boss as long as his boss was in the chair. His highest run was VP as an outsider.

A role model to his children. They grew up financially stable. Able to acquire much of which they sought. Yet there was always a limit. Money was not unloading by the second. It was paced excess. His children didn’t experience the poverty and the struggles he endured during his adolescence but they acted spoiled. Desiring that which others had. His boss’ children received top-notch toys while his children waited until they dropped in price. They were secondhand after the rich ignored them. His children complained about the rich kids but at times more about the other suburban kids. Other parents went out of their way to buy expensive gifts. Demonstrating to their children that they could afford the price. Pride clouded their financial capabilities. Desiring to look well off when in reality was one step away from reduced poverty. Investments acted as an emergency fund but they were insufficient to compensate the collateral had disaster stricken. Accepting the eternity of the middle class does not mean richness was not strived for in other areas. Articulating rich jargon was a ploy in many regards. Whether it be schooling or simply dressing. The children of the middle class try to manage themselves as financially stable but they do not know the truth. 

Envy forms in his mind. He has worked so hard but he is a part of a company that could whither. Entrepreneurial routes have caught his eye but he is old and set in his ways. Stubborn and naive he persists in his ways. His children are ignorant to the detrimental truth. He will never reach the pinnacle of wealth. He has strived but has fallen short. Succeeded but there is a higher rung. Capitalism offers that possibility. It is plausible and yet he does not make it. A good life but one that can topple in minutes. A scary reality. His children live in their hopeful positivity. All is swell at home. His freedom has enabled him to climb but has also resisted his ability to claim the title he so deeply seeks. Despite his loneliness, he pushed forth. A lion ruthless and impassioned. A proud member of the middle class with aspirations for more. Tied to a social class with lacking social ties. He lives by business. Raised a family and provides for their future. It is a dog eat dog world and he will ensure his family is satiated.

Doing my own Thing

By: Jonathan Seidel

Threat of otherness in the midst of passive non-conformity 

People struggle with non-conformity. While many lash out at preaching deviants. Passive monks are also dismayed. Doing nothing at times is consequential. 

Unknowingly annoying someone through passive harassment is uncontrollable. It is asking people to be self aware of doing nothing. The passivity is going against the grain. Reading a book in conversational crowd is one such example. Reclusive from the group on a park bench meters away from the social scene. Opting not to engage the norm is abnormal. While it does not account for animosity the discomfort felt by excluding the self from the group is perceptively dangerous. The group’s synergy is hallowed. Upon realising they cannot forgo what they have internalised. Once the problem staring them straight in the face is accepted it is verified as a problem. Where is the unison, why the separation. 

It takes one’s arrogant individualism to mess up the entire dynamic. There is a time and place for everything. Norms people are expected to follow. A failed expectation brings uneasiness and frustration. The higher the expectation the greater the anger. Frequent deviations may warrant unrested animosity or calming disregard. Either choosing to rebuff or repudiate. It is a fine line depending on the speaker and situation. Circumstances generate varied responses. There is a way to act and a way not to act. The monolithic vision creates binaries on how one should act. Acting out of line requires a lesson in discipline. The level of offence determines the offended’s next step. If he approaches and if so how he formulates his rebuke. 

Ironically, the deviant is not acting any malice. He is doing what he wants. What he finds comfortable and enjoyable. He may be an impersonal introvert. Shy with bad people person skills. While this person may escape the wrath of the offended, the extraverted outgoing individual choosing to do otherwise hurts more. It is analogous to the good person who does good naturally and the wicked person overcoming his nature to do good. It works both ways. We praise more for a greater accomplishment and scorn more for a greater disappointment. The expectation is a measuring stick circumstantial and factorial. The principled individual, the upholder of norms will be the first to retaliate. He will perceive this irregularity as an attack on societal address and not a fluke. Its consistence will batter his head with needless shame lacking admiration. 

Postulated norms with no listing, more or less arbitrary are sanctified by such folk. There is a consistent way of acting since youth. If this is the theme, it must be correct. It also intuitively seems off. To sit in the corner reading while others are conversing is suspicious. It is its own call of rebellion. The sidelined reader hopes people will stare at him and mess up. He hopes to shake up the norms. To mess with the codified order with his blasphemous alteration. He need not say anything. Actions speak louder than words. His actions are screaming watch me and follow me. As the only irregularity in the scene he is painted as rallying a new cause. To confuse everyone and dismantle the progress made thus far. He is perceived in a negative light, vermin out to bring chaos. 

Ill-will is forced upon him. His difference speaks magnified volumes of disgusting evil. That is the only possible answer to breaking from the norm. Surface examination is the final analysis. Preconceived cinema stalks the offended’s brain constructing narratives concerning the reader’s intentions. He must be clouded by false hopes. While most will simply ignore him seeing him as a nuisance, some will build vile feelings in their hearts. Feeling a need to make comedic or nasty comments. His peace of mind is breached by snowflake egomaniacs. He is unable to live as he pleases. His deviation is a stain on the normative portrait. He must concede his own comfort for another’s sanity. His deviation bothers them and is his fault for his insensitive lack of conformity. He wished to be left alone but instead of agreeing to his wishes they trample him with emotionally stressing sensations. 

Deviation is breaking away, forming a new world. A reality embracing adaptation. They despise change wishing for things to remain the same. Accepted norms are not easily altered. They are so embedded in the collective psyche. Each person matures with the same list. It is the irregular who is the outlier. The outcast trying to force others to fit his lunacy. He sits there quietly doing his own thing. He is happy in his own world. He cares little for universal norms. This positivistic formality is nothing short of propaganda. It is mere accepted opinion. He feels no need to comply. He disagrees and that is that. There is no scientific conclusion nor objective methodology. It is a way people do things but there is meagre justification. He displays his disagreement in choosing to do otherwise than what the situation calls for. Yet he does not perceive the binary outlook capturing the offended’s mind. He does place things in boxes. It is not a child’s game where certain blocks fit into certain holes. He embraces the complexity.

Resisting conformity angers the proponents. Pushing their dogmatic agenda on others. Dissenters are not beloved but benign. He does not wish to be accosted for his actions. He has acted in a way that suits him. He does not see the box so he acts in his comfort. He is not infringing on anyone else. The offended should ignore instead of reacting ferociously. Their childish stampede is unconvincing and ungracious. The offended see a war to defend while the reader sits in tranquil silence. When he is pounced upon, he merely ignores them. If they bother him, he will move. He does not feel the need to be threatened by immaturity. He is not hurting anyone so he should not apologise. His passivity is his choice. If that bothers others that is their problem. They need to strengthen their own convictions and mature a little. A youthful attire baked in disgruntled harmony is weak minded. You do you as long as it does not infringe on the other’s liberties.  

Always Connected for Better or Worse

By: Jonathan Seidel

Being before Stoic  

Individualistic pride travelled deeply in the pioneering adventuring. Seeking autonomic expression in the twilight of veiled destiny. The cardinal asset is the self’s individuality. While the collectivist hunt sat in silence, the pursuit of progress dodged a significant arrow. The leap to betting on oneself alone in the world paid off in a solitude lifestyle for the rest of humanity. The shift back to communities. Awaiting a reconnection of a new united order is crawling with needy vibes. With the prudence and pestilence. A narrow vision that must be opened by self preservation. 

Stoic markers are not the boldest claim to growth but nor are collectivist armouries. Ideological prose place a significant weight on the dogmatic impulse. Stoicism seeks to cope and collectivists seek to fix. The wrong side of a tribal dispute is a death sentence. On the one hand, introspecting and enduring are limiting aspects of insurance. On the other hand, group mindedness can result in exclusionary detail. It is a hard line and identify two different approaches to the ethical dilemma. The autonomic theme derails the unifying defence. A deserter alone to decide for himself as opposed to the settled group who decides as a group the best course of action. Are we looking for Hobbesian chaos or the Leviathan. Band together for our betterment. Moving back into town after a nice stint solo for a comforting peace amongst others. 

Groups are restrictive. The traveller finds a home with other like-minded individuals at best. Yet his mobility is sanctioned by the group’s aspiring order. The wild is dangerous; it is better to concede some freedom for more security. To give up guns for sanctuary in fort Pierce. Paintballs flying everywhere and the hunt to oust every student is protected by a walled off passage. Rules obeyed not only for submission but safety. The jungle is a dangerous place and shelter is the secure area away from the unfettered location. Community is a strong shelter. It is not solely a military defence but an offensive building mechanism that diverts the wild away from life inside the city. In the Middle Ages, travelling between cities was dangerous especially at night. Cities themselves were havens but in between was a road of dangerous foes. Bringing escorts sought to protect their goods along the way. Yet the protection provided paled in comparison to the city itself. Soldiers occupied posts to keep danger out. Communities were a brokerage of collective safety. 

Inside the city is a haven from highway robberies but even in the city danger lies within. While in the Middle Ages the divergence between internal and external was more consistent, it does not mean that safety was secured absolutely. Robbers internally did damage. The impoverished roamed the streets. Safe in the confines of his boxed home. The streets are a danger. Borders secure nations but inside it is free-flowing. Alone at the mercy of the realistic picture. Communities are intended safety nets but are insularly disconnected from the medieval security inside the castle gates. Countrymen were friends insofar as tribalism remained uniform. Jews were attacked by Christian neighbours and protestants were sacked by catholics. The group belief was a danger to identification. Scant individuality tormented those unbelievers. It wasn’t only a matter of damnation but a social enterprise. Assimilating with a religion placed one in a political apparatus to succeed.  

Individuality removed from all externalities, from all belonging became evident in the modern age. Judgement even today still manifests in the stereotypical landmines suffocating existential progress. Race, gender and ethnicity hold back the individual from pursuing their dream. Manners of discrimination dethrone the libertarian motif but such issues are not easily overcome. Implanted with memorial education trans-generationally fails to overturn the falsities branded into parental lectures. Despite the modernisation and legal equality, ethical indifference is highly touted. Hateful rebuke and mortified disgust contextualise the obstacle. Engraved sermons cannot easily be outdone. The lineage of discriminatory measures undermining social acceptance is weaning in the face of polarisation. By virtue of fated birth there is little that can change fate. Nazis didn’t care that Jews converted or SJWs that Jews are anti-zionists. Being part of a tribe is call for polemical attitudes.

To be a part of a tribe in any sort of capacity. Whether it be a nation or a race. The negative attitudes result from the polemical nature haunting descendants. The reckless affirmation of forgone accusations belittles potential change. It is an unchangeable facet of life and yet one that comes with extensive baggage. It does not bellow from the external observer. Fated to a tribe no matter how dispersed still maintains some allegiance. Their generational commitment presents an honorary endorsement from the newcomer. Others expecting a specific direction. Diverting from that path causes all kinds of angst distilling their expectations. Angered and frustrated by this autonomic move, greedy and unilateral. Parents expect children to follow in the vision they propose. Deviating is disobeying. A tribe has aspirations for its constituents, failing to meet those standards is scorned with death stares. Those who follow their own path are seen in a negative light. Expectations ruined is a manner of expulsion.    

Stigmas encourage distasteful rhetoric to the tribal member. He cannot escape who he is. Even in our modern day he is judged and persecuted for that fated reality. Outsiders call him names and insiders shake their heads. He is displaced if he breaks free. The deserter is a lonely man with no community and yet a part of a community at the same time. He cannot shed his skin. He can run away but he will always be defined by his birth. His family may forgive him but his broader community may not. Even his family may turn their back on him. Some changes are unforgivable, relationships irreparable. Yet he will be doxxed as a part of that tribe. Exiled or not he is forever tainted by his familial tree. For better or worse he will be linked to his fate. Inquirers will question his integrity. Choosing a personal path is calculated yet reviled. The communal link may not be friendly but it is undeniably present. There is no denying fact even if fiction distorts perception to the negative  over benefit of the doubt.

Being is interconnected. It is an eternal truth that will engulf him till he dies. He belongs somewhere. There are instances of lonely folk with no family or connections to call for help. Yet for many there is a support system. Belonging somewhere is a quintessential comfort to the human conscious. Alone and hungry is terrifying. Belonging connotes care. Essence is wound up to a communal metric. A foundation that designs a map of concern for the patient. Alone for a few seconds before aid comes to the rescue. He will not be lying in a hospital bed alone. His family rushes to his bedside to raise his spirits. His essence binds others to his existence. It is those others who are compelled to assist him. Belonging is a two way street whereby those on the other end come through when needed the most. Simplistic existence is no laughing matter but it limits the level of essence inhabited. A person’s network is their essence, it is their linkage to others.

Essence does find allies in the tribe. The tribe is exclusive. His essence is restricted to those in his wider circle. He belongs to a group to which others are not privy. It is this exclusivity that his foundation borders on polarised assets. It is the tribe that inherits his necessities. He is a valuable piece treated with such dignity. Maybe not by other tribes but insistently by his tribe. His belonging comes with the territory. It is his essence that disrupts fluidity to otherness. His essence is extensive but delimited. His plain existence seeks to shatter that mould. We are all humans he shouts but his tribal affiliation does not hold up in the variety eclipsing identification. His inability to escape or alienate his past reveals a dire instability of human progress. Honing in on tribal perceptions places him in a bind. He will forever be placed in his tribe and blamed for it. The member cannot rescind his affiliation. It is engraved in his DNA. It is who he is. He tries to project a post-humanistic perspective and is shunned for his fated existence. 

He may choose to adopt a hybrid of his fate and future. A Spinoza-like tactic. Yet the danger persists. His family will act hostly toward his dramatic diversion from the positivistic line of thinking. He will still be conceived as part of the tribe. No matter how he changes, others will struggle to accept him in his nuanced form. It is his attempt to bridge the gap that will harness a new age. Most will revile him but he may find a few comrades looking for a new middle. Those like him are generally few but have powerful voices if projected adequately. The nuance between fate and destiny shadows a perceptive taste. An outlier in the outfield. He is now stuck and must take a stand as the new foundation. He will find a new community that fits his bill. He is not searching for an existing community but an imagined one. One either non-existent or in the start-up stage. His views are his own but he needs others to affect change. It is one thing to change personally, there is another that can change the system. 

Being and belonging bring a proto-version to the table. An introspective layout of potential communal construction. He must first find his path for himself. Recognise the niche naivety and purge on. It is the lonely journey to nowhere. Rcognising the looming failures of the pre-existing narratives. Change happens from critical thinking and honest reflection. The new community is not hampered by past beliefs or meta-narratives. The goal is to grow and develop casually. His essence can be a source of great pride to those who support and their teachings. Through negation it can be a useful tool to affirmation. Belonging is a necessary concept but at times it’s running towards that is the most impeccable. The creation of a new community based in autonomic expression. One coinciding with the shared values and virtues. One aware of past baggage but utilising for the betterment of society. 

Absurd Abnormalities

 

By: Jonathan Seidel

The absurd life illusion: a reflective guru

The reflective individual recognises the absurdity of life. He no longer naively upholds the doctrinal assessment so emboldened in his collectivist neighbourhood. Weary of the detrimental existence he concedes to its brazen fallibility. Positivity emerges from his acceptance, calmness entering his nostrils and filling his belly with warmth. He has reached the edge of finitude looking back on its radical crystallisation.

An individual so habituated to the program does not recognise the endless pattern. He does not realise his actions are copied across the board. Human society is a refracted mime. A mimicking fool concerned for conformity. Systematic facilitation is not parcelled in the cognitive sphere. Organismic routines take hold unaware of their shared criteria. All vying for the same goals to be realised. Battling one another for that spot. The nourished complacency is not concealed. Chipped to ascertain a hopeful future filled with wealth and joy is relayed heavily in media fortune. The monolithic lens is committed to memory and expressed in daily action. The global synergy unifies a comfort to engage in said action. Nothing is irregular. The difficult life is a challenge but is trudged through nonetheless. It is lambs to the slaughterhouse. All walking in the same direction with no thought of an alternative. If everyone is walking in the same direction it must be the correct path. A naive and neglectful outlook feeding the dogmatic echo chamber. 

A traumatic event whether in agonising physical or emotional isolation invites the individual to seek a varied outlook. The chaotic absurdity of normative existence questions one’s allegiance to prior convictions. How to move forward. How to persist in the detriment of severed optimism. So stooped in the past dreaming of fluid continuity. Life is orchestrated in a specific avenue. Fate and destiny are intertwined. There are alterable angles and unalterable ones. Options are placed before us and it is this agenda that necessitates the direction to live. Either accept or hide in the forest dreading the docile continuation. The regulation of desired fortitude is measured by the opportunities presented. Take it for societal cohesion. Life is encapsulated with a paradigm for some symbolic adventure. The ultimate goal is reach, the pinnacle of materialistic gain. A path is paved and the instructions are laid out by various moguls whether In the classroom or YouTube blueprint. A prayer to the hopeful future is ingrained for societal appreciation. 

Allotting to forgo the societal invasion is to bypass the secretive information craved to get ahead. The red-pilling reaches the same desired goal the cinematic dream promises. The wholehearted American dream is heightened by guru influence. Both sides are pushing for the same value. One side may be sharing top-secret information that others may be suppressing does not change the will for the result. The core is maintained. The commodity shifting but still a commodity at the end. The pursuit is simultaneous, just after a new object. Acting in a specific way to attain the level. The frame is all-inclusive. A holistic picture of mending ideals on both sides of the coin. To have or not is still to aspire for it ideally. The realistic outcome has nothing to do with the realised limit. If the tools were afforded it would be captured immediately. It is is the weakness to achieve for a number of various reasons. As long as the ideal remains the fantasised aspiration, it lingers in the jealous heart of the downtrodden.

Aspirations are important but for a monolithic goal will only lead to misfortune and unrealised expectations culminating in unnecessary frustrations. Weaning this yoke for different goals does not shed the skin entirely. It is the second best, the current best. This is the weak minded. Preferring a different reality but dealt a bad had too stooped in sorrow to overcome. A hole in the heart that cannot be filled sufficiently. The attempt will persist but it will be a mischievous lie. A self hypnosis, a daze to cease the overwhelming yearning. A longing lingering in the depths of the soul. A raging jealousy chained by a false cover up. Hiding true insecurities with a new valued life. A deceptive tone to others and persistently maligning self character. His genuine transition must alter his entire outlook and in the best situation concern himself with none of his past desires. A remodelled individual emerges. This fake till you make it scheme is a guise to trick the self into a new ideology he was too weak to garner. It will not hold especially when things look up and he’s back on the road to the peak. 

Alongside the path for a brief moment, turning around is a cowardly move. If he truly changed he will jump. Jumping down is a mark of full concession. A fall to a new beginning. Crawling down is moving in the same arrangement. Congruent lateral movement is a temporary pause. Wrap the self in a coat to keep warm in the burdensome windy winter weather. Covering up conceals complacency with commitment to the congressional conduit. Veiling true aspirational feelings with the current difficulty at his nine to five job. Hoping for that promotion upgrading to the next level. Climbing the mountain grabbing the rope with his might demonstrating his skill. He’ll huddle up until his body warms up energetic to move up again. The lie is an internal dilemma. How to maintain confidence in the competitive atmosphere riddling his chances of major accomplishments. He keeps trying when given the chance awaiting his boss to call his number. The bench player sitting patiently for his coach to put him to the game. A fire is lit in his eyes awaiting his moment to take charge. 

Absent the societal pressure there is no desire to weave into the null greed of raising that chance. Amidst the journey he daydreams of an alternate reality. One not muddled with this carnal instinct for recognition. This moment of otherness is dangerous. Hypothetical ecstasy is a theoretical fantasy until realised. Until implemented into his life. The pragmatic turn in actualisation alters the course of his life. He becomes someone different. Leaping into the abyss he is truly off the mountain. He no longer plays by society’s rules. This outsider mentality is dangerous to others. He is perceived differently. While someone may veil his intentions with new goals, through conversation and body language, his true passion will be divulged. He will be exposed. The leaper is on a different island. He does not speak but acts entirely differently. He has constructed a new organic lifestyle. It is not just a saying but a way of living. He may recall the old merits tempting him but his routine diagnoses a disinterested motion. A full rejection for a newfound discord.                 

  

After the change he is an outcast by all standards. He does not poach nor preach. He lives his life isolated from the nonsense as he perceives it. He does his thing while everyone else does theirs. Fed up with the simulated society he refutes it in his heart, crippling it in his soul. His ideal is his stoic veracity. His path is his own. The first in messing the grassy path unpaved and unmarked. He trots through the forest. He does not adhere to the concurrents screaming at him. He puts in his headphones and pushes forward. It is a consequential disassociation filled with lonely questing. Listening to his inner voice empowering him fuelling his tired leg muscles to keep moving. He is not satisfied in his current state. Searching for his own goals disconnected to the group’s motto. He lives by his lingo. An isolationist by trade funding his own career and merits. 

Adorning his own crown praising his worth in the futility of life. His confidence and worth are his motoring ideals. His aspirations are individualised in an autonomic blessing. A self mechanical formulation. His lucky stars sounding the clarion call as he passes through town. He will encounter others still hoping for that reward to reach the top of their game. He has given up chess for checkers. He is in an entirely different world mentally. Objectively everything is the same. The same sky, coffee and bars but nuanced subjectivity. A perspective strengthened by the internal mind’s force for its isolating journeying. An anarchist ensuring he is not tied down to any institutional frame. Leaving the scene entirely for his own future. There are still rules but he chooses the direction. He follows the same laws governing but the details of everyday hopes are monitored by the soul not external instructions. He builds his lego house not how the operator says. Reviling the directives forced upon the individual to follow to the letter. 

Actively ignoring attempts to bring him back. He cannot escape the media frenzy fail safe. The slogans are everywhere in every discussion. Creating a mass delusion for uniformity and order. A renegade with little upside. Personal integrity and honest identification are solely prideful moments for him. Onlookers may respect the conviction power but disregard the conviction content. A loner and a reject with no rationale to include, just ignore. He will realise his futility in no time. Abandonment is a consequential act. There won’t be much cheering nor praise to continue down the lone wolf track. It is to the wilderness away from the synchronised village. Leaving may be seen as a superiority trope marring any charismatic influence. He will encounter dissenters and sceptics but it is his personal confidence that is necessary. His success hinges on his willingness to forgo the external concern. He must leave behind in order to move forward. This isolation only breeds resentment from his fellow countrymen. He sticks out like a sore thumb and aggravates others with his existence. 

Asserting himself is neither an active preacher role but a passive existence. He merely wears his convictions branded on his forehead. He is who he is, unaffected by the stimulating coercive ideas surrounding him. He reaches peacefulness by living his true self. It is not true peace as he marginalised by his own fellows. He is by no means tranquil in his encounters. They look at him with scrutiny and scepticism. Way to be a loser they say. The outsider is ridiculed for his alien beliefs. Isolation haunts him but he is too principled to be overpowered by emotional distress. Mental abuse is symptomatic of an expectation. Frustration and loneliness emerge from yearning for consolidation and acceptance. By weaning off of others’ necessity he can reduce his traumatic alienation. He cannot diminish it but can diminish its horrific detail. He need not be a caveman but his cognitive realisation forces him outside the mix prior to social isolation. Finding camaraderie with like minds or consent to aspects of the societal application. 

The Road Always Taken

By: Jonathan Seidel

Reflection at an impasse: active and passive conformity

Reflective aura emerges with traumatic encounters. A moment of looking inside is when the outside is too dim to stare. An obstacle standing ahead of the journeyman scares him inside his shell. Introspection becomes a pep-talk of sorts to inspire the self to move forward. It is at the moment of introspection he makes his decision whether to conform or confirm. 

An impasse reached by everyone at periodic points of life. How one proceeds from that depends on convictions. It is an inevitable encounter. Brushing up against a query of persistent annoyance. To accept or reject the confronting challenge. A moment to stage a stand against the current or be washed away by the wave’s strength. A fork in the road to choose one’s destiny. Each person is questioned concerning their next step. That moment is a reflection of one’s own confidence. Whether or not seriously challenges one’s belief is less about retaliation and more about peer pressure. Willing to fit in at the cost of one’s individuality. A collectivist comfort is worth conceding self action for a brighter acceptance. Wishing to not remain sidelined by his negatory effect. If he wishes not to play ball he will be alone. The loneliness is not worthwhile. The compromising influence in one’s own challenging self esteem. To assist or to resist. 

The choice is the individual’s but it does not feel as such. The prevailing power sucks out the autonomy from the confident self. Attempting to master his own flesh collapsing in an overwhelming avalanche. A wave of crumbling rocks trap his ego in submitting to the external aid to retrieve him from the rubble. Trapped underneath he is paralysed unable to save himself. Beginning to think his arrogance was his downfall. If he only followed orders this wouldn’t have occurred. His demise was by his own hand. His negligence led him to this awful state buried beneath. His calm quick-witted demeanour transitioned to a destabilising claustrophobic insanity. Fear escapes into his body uncertain of his future. Regretting choosing his own path he hopes for his friends to save him. Hoping they have not given up on him. He signed his death warrant but some empathy may ensure his survival. He shrieks in horror crying for salvation. He is rescued by his admission. His promise that he will maintain the course of everyone else, never veering off. 

His swift stumble is enough to change his mind. He owes a debt to those who saved him. His conformity is that price. Giving up part of himself in order to maintain order. His punishment is cohesion. Sounding attractive on the surface is uniform integrity dismissing otherness. He loses his own solitude for collective reform. An irony to his own failure. His first attempt at solitude faulted in a manner of seconds. To honour his misdeed he concedes. He recedes back to the group conscious, away from his subjectivity. Such thoughts are solely theoretical in his mind. Expressing a status quo marring any more singular adventures. The narrow-minded individualism falls short of prosperity. Bending the knee to the collective he is readmitted into the fold. A scary world outside easy to fall into a pit and be left to rot. Not wishing for an inescapable demise he rallies himself around those who can protect him. 

The lonely journey is not a blissful experience. Declaring the solo quest is a statement to not be bothered. While the group protests the lone deserter it realises its loss. Walking down the long corridor towards the exist is a momentary query to rethink this decision. Will he turn his back on his fellows. Doing so may reciprocate in them doing the same. This may be a permanent measure unable to take back. One encoded with a deserter title. He cannot foresee the future. He may be re-accepted at a later date but there may be strings attached. In order to qualify for readmission he may need to renounce his desertion and accept their rules. He is playing at a disadvantage. Right now he can choose to stay while maintaining his deviance in his head. Once he is outside the fold nothing short of purity will enable his return. Even if he is permitted to return others may see him differently potentially with scowls and scornful demeanours. 

A desperate move for solitude need be temporary. Conviction is final in this regard. Shunning the comforting collectivism is a stain on one’s reputation. Branded a deserter will bring animosity. Returning a changed man with new aspirations is dangerous. A soulful calling to isolate has repercussions. His decision is one of deep consequences. Starting down a different path will question trust and reliance. He prompts the otherness. He separates from the group. It is his separation spawning grief. Expectations have been thwarted in exchange for deception and desertion. He has let his fellows down. He has disgraced them with lies. They may bring themselves to associate with him but to a certain degree. He is forever changed in their eyes. His deceit cannot be undone. Speaking out of turn in a moment of tribulation is blasphemous. Unable to handle the uniformity he forms his own thinking. A more nuanced look but his deviation is against the law. He is alienated by his desperate escape. 

To avoid this skirmish he renounces these dangerous thoughts. He relents and repents for his sinful behaviour. He instinctively seeks camaraderie. He casts off the constant push over the edge. He cannot allow it to consume him. He seeks comfort in the arms of friends. He will step out of line lest he face the terrible unforeseeable consequences. In a moment of despair he shuns these thoughts for allied strength. He does not wish to be lonely. He pushes against the abandoning feeling. Refusing to rid his current belief system. His integrity at stake, he ignores the call for desertion. He maintains his place alongside his friends. A bold marker to overpower the overwhelming cognition. He sticks to his best option. With others he is comforted. He ceases to be alone. Transcending his guilty conscious for   conformity. Compelling himself in the best direction for his delirious emotions. He recognises the brief chaotic moment. He disallows it to overcome his path. 

Desertion is the enemy. Eternal disdain is too much for him to handle. It cannot be the truth. Alone in the world with an irregular view is too foreign. His experience is a moment of weakness. He must take charge discharging this devilish ideal. For his own acceptance he relishes in extinguishing the demonic alien. It is an evil trying to capture him in his pitiful state. The devil himself using this moment to tempt him off the righteous path. Outside the fold is wrong. No one else lives that way, it cannot be true. The writing on the wall is a mere illusion generated by the devil to bring him to the dark side. It is a trick, witchcraft to turn on his friends. He will not abandon his quest for solidarity. He entrusts his future to the group over his now intuition. He begs the group to save him. To raise him from the illusionary hellfire. His schizophrenic mania is a devilish tactic but he will prevail. 

There is a difference between the chronic patient impasse and the average Joe. The latter enters the fork periodically. A decision is not so difficult, he forgets it in time and so the fork is foreign to him. Persistent trauma scours mental fortitude to maintain necessary norms. The haemorrhage assault nags into a raging cynicism. Is one thing to reach an impasse once but a cyclical manifestation is tedious and tiresome. It is a never-ending nightmare. One that when the day ends it restarts at the same point. He is living a cinematic drama reliving the struggle. He cannot exceed the bordered loop. There is no moving forward, that is merely an illusion away from the pain. One is caught in a loop to maintain the status quo or go insane. There is no escape, he is stuck in an eternal circle. Only medication and self esteem can shed the prison he has found himself in. He can begin to rebuild as long as mind numbing externalities reduce the horror mediating in his soul. 

A grieving ex in time will overcome the trauma. It is easier to ignore the tell signs by reinserting the self back into the fold. The brief alienation barks ideas of further alienation. His transition back to society is intentionally cleansed of these impure thoughts. When he neither is in a relationship nor single mentally he is preoccupied with dreading on the past. He has yet to accept his reality. Once he is able to forcefully he moves on. He returns to the mentality he was before he was in the relationship. While the relationship may have changed him he chooses to return to the mass ideal. Inserting himself into societal progress. It is in this transitional moment where he can change his trajectory. Does he wish to return the same he was before or an entirely new person. He has grown but does he carry that with him. In order to partake in the societal vision he must give up part of his growth. He accepts societal terms and is rejuvenated with comforting conformity. 

The chronic surviver is an endurer. His life is hell. He is chained to the volcanic ash bruising his skin everyday. He cannot distance himself with foreign preoccupation. Such a temporary measure only receives the pain ten folds. He is at a lost. He is accosted perpetually by the mumbles in his ear to absolve societal nonsense. He has sufficient time to listen carefully to the words pronounced on his chest. His pain opens up his aural capacity for deep immersion. He hears a call and places his ear close to the wall. The whispers become louder. He no longer ignores them. If he is stuck he may as well listen. This permission pounces on him lecturing him on societal failure. He cannot tell if this is an illusion or lunacy. It becomes real to him. His isolation only frequents their chatter and bolsters their resilience. He relives his abyss daily and with his energy sapped he gives an ear to these words. The impasse is not a one time thing but a daily encounter. As if he relives the same day with no way out. 

Persistent voices with their blasphemous tongue to isolate are not prophetic nor inspiring. The absurd in no way rallies a magnitude of energy to begin a revolution. His pain sidelines him. His chronic condition finds sympathy with the disregarded voices. Becoming allies he begins to listen to them. Yet in his weakened state he is unable to execute anything drastic. These voices tend to his wounded heart. In his grief the voices provide comfort. Alone and away from others, they are the resilient messaging. Chaotic reality is synergised in his mind finding an ounce of solace. The cycle is not broken as the words continue. He cannot escape so he accepts the situation. The loop keeps him at arm’s length by others. He recognises his own limits and restricts others access. He is alone with the voices to stoically manifest and gradually develop his survival strategy. Pessimism and nihilistic tendencies emerge but it is his confidence in his own responsibility to thrive.