A Story

Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.”- Rimbaud

“That day I went home soaking wet top to bottom. My hair was dripping water on the floor. My feet were smudging my foot prints in stains of mud that shall not remain as proof of my existence, but rather wash away as the world moves on and forgets about me while I die of lonesome and tiresome thinking only of that burden of a world. I did not care to close the door of the house behind me or take the keys out of the door, I stormed into my room grabbed a piece of paper and sat down on my desk.


It seems that I have reached the first block of the way of what was going to be the highlight of my insignificant human life or maybe the highlight of all insignificant human life. There, before me on the desk were three tools of which I had to choose one. The tool I were to use during the process-to-come was as important as the process itself. I had no idea which was the right tool. I knew I shall not use a pencil since I refuse that my documented discovery–to-come be easily erased as fast as my existence. It was down to choosing between a ballpoint pen and a dip pen with some ink. And like the rest of the decisions I had to take in my life I froze there with a shocking stare that gave me all away. Like all my life decisions I had no idea what to do, I had no idea how to think, I had no idea why was this even happening. And like all my life decisions I closed my eyes, threw these two tools off the desk and bent down feeling the floor with my hands until I grabbed one of them. And like all my life decisions I opened my eyes to the solution of my first problem, in my hand, although it was not quite a solution that I awaringly took myself.

The sound of the wind outside did not seem to ease and the rain only sounded heavier now dripping  hard on the ceiling of the house like it was trying to go through that ceiling or knocking on it to wake me up and stop me of what I was about to start. Not today. I held on hard to the pen in my hand, I shall not stop this, not now and not today.

I readjusted my posture on the desk I have both pen and paper in front of me now. I will get to the bottom of this. I shall save humanity of all the misery it has been enduring for the past who knows what of time; going through life unwillingly and devoid of choice without the very least of explanation of why or what this human life is doing here and to where it shall end. I shall find this missing explanation in the simplest of equations of the most complicated science that seemed to have the answer to most of what goes on around us. I shall come up with a simple physics equation as simple as how Einstein figured that time is a fourth dimension, and then came up with the theory of relativity. As simple as how Newton figured out why every time you try to jump and leave that binding ground for a moment of time, you will fall with a force and impact as heavy as you weigh a burden on earth. I, like these prior simple physics laws, shall come up with the equation, that shall seem in a couple of years so logical, that will explain why and what are we doing here.

I placed down the tip of the pen on the first line in the paper to where it left a small tiny spot of ink that, as I pressed on the paper, grew larger until it stopped growing no more. I knew I had no idea where to start. I wrote down all common laws of physics and tried to combine them. It didn’t work. I wrote them down again and tried to find something common between them. It didn’t work. I wrote them down and tried to find something different. It didn’t work. My frustration grew along each failure and I looked at the time to find that it was still that dark silent hour of night.

The wind outside still did not ease down and the rain drops felt heavier, almost heavy enough to knock down that ceiling above me. I still didn’t know where to start and my determination to get to the bottom of all this seemed absurd now. The absurdity, like some man in the middle of the woods determined to figure a way out with no map, only to find at the end of all his searching and wandering that the woods are spiral and that there is no start and no end… and that’s when it hit me, there was no start of this and shall be no end! I had no idea if human life was an anomaly to nature or if that was how the universe went but I only knew at the moment that this is a fact I shall not accept. This fact shall not be my conviction.

I grabbed another piece of paper and another and another and I knew the answer was in the laws; the answer had to be in the equations that solved life. I wrote the equations side to side, I wrote them above each other and beneath each other and I grabbed another million paper and I wrote them and wrote them until they made no sense but neither did the world and yet the world kept going on and so shall I.

It was getting hot around, my clothes were suffocating. It was very hot now yet the wind was still blowing outside as hard as it has been all night. I arranged all pieces of paper on the floor now and I kneeled down on them. I was sweating so hard, it almost felt like all the water in me was trying as well to escape the suffocation I feel. I took off my wet coat. I took off the muddy shoes. I took off my wet shirt and my wet pants. My body was covered in water that I now was not able to identify as whether the water of the rain that has soaked me or that was my cold sweat. I started shivering but I still felt hot, and yet there was no clothes left on me to take off. I focused on going back to the writing and so I did. There was no strength left in me now and I stared at the papers for what seemed like forever with no sense at all. There was no strength in me, not to cry not even to break down and rage on the world, not even to tear these papers in small tiny insignificant, meaningless, pointless, pieces like my life. And so my body was falling back now like there was no ground. It is when it hit the ground and I fell on the papers that the rain seemed to stop and the wind seemed to settle and the world seemed to go on to start a new day. And I, like with all the problems in my life, seemed to have found no satisfactory answer; in fact no answer at all.

I rolled to my right side trying to stand up with nothing left in me anymore, no water, no strength, and no soul. As I was standing up I had to take the paper off me that has stuck on the water that was on my body. This was another physics law it is just an adhesive force that kept the paper on my body. I removed all the paper and found myself in front of the mirror with this look in my eyes, one that I haven’t seen before; not in my eyes, not in no one’s. I was no longer dripping; there I was standing half dry, half dehydrated, and naked in front of the mirror with a million inked equations on my body that seemed in place like a tattoo that was unwillingly carved under my skin upon birth.