It becomes a speck of dirt in one's garbage, to rely on someone only to find out it was the one person that hurt you. Or is it that relying on someone a wrong choice to begin with? the lack of self-achievements to answer for a problem, that probably guides ourselves into dependence, looking for straight paths to our heartless desires, we seek other people and demand their reassurance, it could be a friend with a nicer voice or it could be a song by a famous singer, but it ends and begins with finding dependence on ourselves. It's us and only us lurking behind this state of mind. We are the ones able to change our light. Or is it?
Julie, a young nine years old girl, with a bright heart and a little figure, lived in a state where there is no choice but to depend on someone. That's what we were taught, to depend, at our very first look of this world, and see it through others' eyes, through our guardians, or those imposing what choices to make, till we come of age. Julie's charms were looking through the window of her parents' car, gazing through the clouds, and trying to find something different as a skip from her usual ride to her grandmother's farm, where they spend thirteen days and forty minutes back to their home. It is usual, it is the same. Maybe intelligence in some way comes in remembering the routine, maybe one gets smarter when he finds usual a joy to think of each time, in which case, it takes the aspect of attention and gives us more vision to the usual. Lights are skipping outside the car, and the sound of the underway hitting the shadows of the traffic, making sure every light does a different job. There are Eighty-nine light bulbs on the corner of each frame the car passes by, it is also usual. But Julie notices more to a simple architecture, ones that are less shiny than others. It is usual to Julie, but not to the woman in front of her, her stepmother that has been her mother since she was in her mother's womb. Is Julie thinking of this? of whether their parents know what she might know, whether it is normal to dwell into the simple grass laying before her eyes, and accelerating at the same speed of her father's vehicle? It is for sure, that all her thoughts stay in her head, she can't express everything. she keeps looking through pictures with colors but no names. She can't remember names inside her head but she feels right, then wrong, then knows how to be a human, but she can't express it using a lip sound. Although she knows, she has choices inside, already made. The moment she goes out of that car, she will walk straight to the garden, near her favorite tree, away from the movement of the noisy mouths. That is usual for her mind to think but usually does not apply fully to the road she's in. If her choices alone could work, maybe everything in her mind is drawn straight from the random deck of infinite universes and put forward into her story. But she's not the only one in the game of choices, every other human is equally immersed into the game. But the truth is, Julie cannot choose, she's yet to be part of the game. And so could be anyone in this life..
In few moments of looking through the cows mooing so far away, a tone rings from her father's phone, he picks up the phone, it's beautiful scenery, the mother was tired, away from the body with her eyes closed, the father is talking to someone with a familiar speech, Julie is used to it. She knows when her father is changing his mind when he listens to advise, and when he shows the choices he made. Julie is a pure girl, she lived in a good environment, she was loved by her stepmother and her father. Julie is viewed as pure for the number of choices she made in her life. None. Everything is nurtured by the place she's in, from books to read, to what to wear, to what to eat, when to sleep, when to live, how to feel in each time, in each moment. But that's not something we dislike, as a society. It is viewed good, to lead your children, to lead the young to better choices, by imposing your choices to their beliefs. But good was never a way to measure the righteousness of things. Nevertheless, Julie is pure, in thoughts, in her usual life. the amount of information she absorbed so far came from known sources, even ones we aren't supposed to know of. Julie had this ambition, to love those around her. It is called innocence, to love someone for who they are. But it is also natural for Julie to show innocence since after all, that's how it is chosen for her. Had their parents been slightly different, she would be a totally different person, and this statement applies for the same parents, if they treated different children in a slightly different way, their whole perspective of freedom and raison d'ĂŞtre is swiped. Nevertheless, Julie is pure, in heart, she is a child with a fragile white pale body, no sign of sadness, nothing but a light shade with a baby's scent. Or is she? the fact that her years were spent in a white room, nothing but books to see and read, her biggest achievement was when she walked out of her room, to see her mother making breakfast. With her first smile being cast sideways, a smile of a happy child feeling comforted by a mother, or a smile of a prisoner leaving the bars of false accusation...
She fell asleep, on the road of her thoughts.
No thoughts left to process since the one behind is not responding to the usual pulses that push the brain to fabricates reactions to different light shades. Nothing but a dream Julie encounters inside. A usual dream, where she incorporates the character of another world, with a stronger presence, more power inside the game of choices, and better ways to see the details of his environment. He jumps higher than when she looked at a skyscraper and imagined herself jumping there, he could move faster than how she was being pushed in a rollercoaster, it was more enjoyable, to move on your own, without relying on others, to make choices where you could see their effects in your reality, where you could feel the reaction of the world. That is what Julie misses from her innocence and purity, she saw a dream that impersonates exactly her desires. But was it a dream? Couldn't the dream be the reality she is, and the world she sees through her eyes a passing dream? Is that the wish she wants? These questions, are usual, ones you start wondering about the moment your eyes start twitching, and you see the momentary road trip stopping. They were already on their grandmother's farm. It was a fast skip to the future, wherein between, was a beautiful casted dream. One stay and wonder, that if our lives are measured by time, wouldn't that dream be also a part of our life? or part of someone else's? As human beings, is one's time only spent on one's self? or is it that our time is used by separate beings, us being one of them?
One of those beings are living objects that are transcended as emotion blocks, those blocks represent a part of the mystery we face when we look inside, curiosity is one of those blocks. They are blocks if we see that curiosity is a mix of simple emotions, if we put curiosity in a paper, we can see the pattern it lays, what emotion starts it and what emotion end it. Emotions alone are blocks of light, fading into color through our subconsciousness. Curiosity is a joker, it is a parameter that changes the results of our current thoughts, and leads to wonder, hope, ideas, or simple blocks that represent one kind of emotion in them. Julie wanted to cherish every color she seen in that white room, the one where white and noise aren't encountered. Colors represent the emotions since they are the simplest form of information we could absorb and react to. Similar to plants, we decode the colors into emotions, and then blocks of emotions. Julie only sees the colors, and make blocks out of them. That's the one power she dreamed of having, and she has.
She looks at the tree far next to her grandmother's door, but she couldn't walk there, her father was next to her, she couldn't leave, even though her insides had the choices taken, even though she wants to, she can't, because she depends on someone else to give her the choices. Her father, on the other hand, is leaning to hold his mother and seek the desire he once had but couldn't break from, to finally having the lies stack up and ready to give him the illusion of freedom, of a raison d'ĂŞtre, where he could see his mother and say that he has made his own choices and came up to that point where he hugs his mother with nothing but purity. While the exchange of Julie's parents with her grandmother continues, they sit and get comfortable in the house, enjoying a cup of tea, eating chunks of biscuits, laughing at memories and discussing the pleasant news of having a new kid to join her as a fellow choiceless slave, under the mercy and joy of the parents, Julie stares at the window, and from time to time turn her eyes towards objects that shine interest in her mind, that could raise curiosity, or a different emotions block. Could it be, that our Consciousness is a unit that takes information from the outside world, and sends awareness throughout these blocks, if one of them responds, then that one comes to use? it is possible if we notice that sometimes without our consent we get to feel a different emotion from what we initially thought? Julie asks these questions, but not through words, only through how she reacts with her eyes. She knows how it works, she feels it, and so every human being in this world.
The feeling in which we call, being lonely...