The goals I have been persuaded to have do not reflect my desire. And much like that of myth, it has no image within the glass. The entity of my want has no form, and it will not be so easily defined.
The design that suits a simple mind does me no justice. The capacity to learn is easy to acquire. The drive to reach that point is much more difficult to gain in a society where roles you play have more value than your truth.
Where effort is downplayed and improvement forgotten, the mind of an individual deteriorates in the sense that it will no longer trust the community that raised it. It will rebel against all authority.
But even kicking and screaming, it will make its mark within the lines. It will not ask for more. That mind of so many ideas and curiosities crumbles in the smothering grasp of a culture born from the dollar. Where your worth is settled with wealth and those who choose to ask, rather than go blind, are poured posion in their coffee mugs. Rotting teeth so that they might never exercise their voice.
I am sickened by a life of slavery to the majority, on my knees to praise the concept that life isn't as bad as it seems. And agreeing that, yes, I want to abolish my idea of a good life and replace it with what you say is truth. But the goals I have been persuaded to have do not reflect my desire.
