AN ODE TO YOUR DREAMS

( 十四 ) blurred facet

blurred facet.

IN THE AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE by William Blake, it is said that "a dog starved at his master's gate predicts the ruin of the state".

At a young age, you've found solace between imaginary places formed in sets of sentences, printed on pages, and stacked together to conjure a book. You devoured it. Like a paleontologist digging for fossils hidden beneath mounds of sand in deserts. You could say that with each page that is turned, the details you receive can be compared to the data found within the process of observing fossils. It is not the practical process, rather, the inevitable abstract feeling felt when you discover something new about the subject you are interested in.

Simultaneously, with new discoveries taken, the information left ( that you want ) to find is substracted. Because you no longer had to look for things that were already right in front of you. In the same respect, as time goes by, with each book devoured and as the hands of the clock came at full circles repeatedly, less books lay available for your mind to process. Less works contained similar quality of writing that took part in your standards ( arbitrarily decided & biased ) that increased with each profound book consumed. Until eventually, they all ( seemingly ) die out and your interest along with it.

And with nothing in you ( no interests left and definitely no dreams ), you are simply an operating government of a third-world country, purposely depriving your citizens of their rights to education in order to perpetuate obliviousness and ignorance. You would rather operate and die as you are and what you had instead of placing yourself at a risk of disappearing with the fear of being thrown out of your position—out of your power. Because the more you know, the more you ponder. The more you ponder, the more you are provided with realizations. And reality isn't kind as to provide you with realizations that fed you with happy lies.

Reality only throws you objective truths. But humans exist perceiving the world and its reality through subjective lenses.

And you were no exception to that.

Classes come and end, and with each step you take as lunch period comes around, your posture is straight and filled with purpose. Blood runs through your veins—today, you are alive, you remind yourself. You turn to the left once you've reached the front row of seats, stopping in front of the chair right beside the window.

Your classmate, Itoshi Rin, sits there and you take notice of the certain blue insulated water bottle placed on the floor beside his seat.

"Thought you were gonna throw it away." You pipe up.

He narrows his eyes and deflects your words. "What are you doing here, lazy ass?"

"Eat lunch with me."

His brow quirks up before his face falls flat. "I'd rather eat shit."

You shrug. "By all means. No shame, although, I don't believe you'd appreciate the effects of ingesting E. coli. Urine, on the other hand, is a safer option because the levels of bacteria are likely low, apparently."

"Can we not talk about shit and piss while I'm eating?"

"You started it."

"Just shut up."

"I will if you eat lunch with me."

"No."