“Reality”, what a relative phrase, rather, ‘reality’ is but what a person perceives it. No one person has rights to what is and isn’t, if we all see different, hear different, feel different. Things may be close enough for us to get a common knowledge of them, a similar perspective. Colors, for example, all have names, all look different (except to the colorblind), yet do any of us know what the other truly sees? Is your blue the same as your friend’s, neighbor’s, or mother’s? Do we all see the same reality, grasp the same sensations, or do we all walk to our own beat of millions of different drums, trying to grab hold of our own truth while understanding others at the same time? So, under this understanding, is insanity the same as colors or is it all black and white?
CRASH! screams a porcelain plate after it fell to the ground, dead. The plate in its prime time was Louis’s wedding china, but now it laid shattered and forgotten in the heat of the moment. The turkey it was carrying also laid on the tile floor, dirtied and forgotten.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN!”, exclaimed our newly introduced Louis. His name, though it looks like Louis is pronounced Lew-ee. He does not mind being called Lew-is, but for the sake of the story, let us call him Louis, pronounced Lew-ee. Louis was tall and slender and had platinum blonde hair, much like the sun’s rays. His sharp figures matched his green eyes, which were filled with pity and pride, most of the time. He viewed himself higher than any man, and was expected to treated as such. He had more money than most and for that he demanded respect and attention.
“Now, son, we had just received this letter yesterday. Don’t get such a fuss, we will miss you but, we must serve our country to defeat the nasty, no-good Japs and Hitler. While you’re there, give Hitler the ol’ one two for me.”, spoke a fat man with little to no neck and oily hair. His face was most like a pigs, fat yet cheery looking. He laid out a toothy grin on his porky face. His name was Roger, and if you could not tell already, he was Louis’s father. Roger was a proud man, he indulged himself in worldly pleasures daily, to remind everyone he managed to stay high class through the depression.
“Father, must I? I’m about to be married. I don’t want to abandon her.”, Louis stampered. His father had arranged a marriage between him and a beautiful girl (in his father's opinion) named Ruby. Louis did not love Ruby, or even liked her enough to see daily, she was a mere acquaintance. Sadly for Louis, I cannot say the same about Ruby. Ruby was head over heals in love with Louis. Much like an overprotective bear to it’s cubs, Ruby allowed Louis to be around very few people, and talk to even fewer. Her heels clacked when she walked, and her makeup and perfume overpowered what would have been an almost pretty face. If she was not unusual to an onlooker from the first sight, the onlooker, according to Louis, was bonkers.
The only thing that was in common between them was the fact that they both came from a devout Orthodox Jewish families. Louis, was not jewish, but his overpowering father and mother were, and he was not one to disobey their orders. The religion off put him, call him selfish, but he saw no need to not eat pork or have a law against the mixing of meat and dairy products. He’d rather not practice a religion, that as a whole, was being tortured and segregated at the moment. He knew of the horrors in Europe to those of ‘his kind’. Louis loved being up to date on news, if he didn’t know, no one knew.
“Son! You have to join, you were drafted for Pete’s sake! You’ve gotta join”, Roger roared, “Come on Marge, I think we have overstayed our welcome.”
The pig faced man and his grubby wife arose from the table and stormed down the hall and out the door without so much as a ‘good bye’, yet I doubt that bothered our protagonist today. How can I get out of the military?, Louis wondered, I don’t want to hurt myself, and I don't feel the need to lose my luxurious life in hiding, no. Louis was lost for a moment, his mind racing for a possible cure to his problem, and when he found it, it hit him like a train. I must, he thought, fake insanity!
