Inside all of us are contradictions fighting for a sensible, just conclusion. And so, there was a creature who was, supposedly, a dreamer far from the consciousness of the present. He lived in the future, and his present didn’t seem real but only a dream from which he thought he would wake up one day into the real desired space of his.
He had felt it all: the pain, the pleasure, the confusion, the clarity, the emptiness, the fullness, love and hate. He went through phases, yet he felt he was the same, in the same place, at the same time all the time. Years passed by, seasons came and went, and he still waited for the space he would one day silently slip in. Where his want was getting stronger, he was also getting convinced of the non-existence of the space. For the creature, there were just two options: to be rescued or to rescue. Aren’t they just the two possibilities of every single life here on this earth? He was critised for his escapism; but wasn’t he just trying to live like everybody else? Who was wise enough to conclude his acts as a means of escapism? Although he was a humanitarian, his own existence was endangered. Neither, could he rescue, nor be rescued.
So, tired of all, he decided not to wait for that space, instead create it for himself with all the knowledge and wisdom he held. He quickly pinched himself and tried to be in the reality of the present. He removed the dust off the experience of the past and polished the aim of the future. He equipped himself with love, faith, and his dream. He took his first, bold, empowering step, and he felt no more; he ceased to exist.
It is heard he found his space.