I had always pondered life, and all its extremities, since I had discovered that much lay outside the biased spectrum of humanity. It had only taken one tiny movement, one single creature, to set my mind into a storm. A bird, small and insignificant, collecting twigs to build a nest.That was when it had hit me.
Why?
Why had this random collection of atoms, fused by chance, without knowledge, wisdom or even foresight decided to build, create, accomplish, and furthermore exist? When, in the shadows of the past, did nothingness decide to become life? Would it not have been much simpler to remain as dust, light, and dark, to lurk on the boarders of reality and ignore the inconsistencies of life? What logic had it followed, being of a single mind, all instinct and nature, to form flesh, to breathe, to think? How could it have known? How could a void have considered these things? Did it secretly think that all the inevitable hate and suffering, was worth it just to be able to exist alone?
I had pondered these things with the efficiency of a madman, in mere seconds. To think, that I could even consider such vast things, overwhelmed me. Yet life went on, as the bus I lingered in came to a stop, and I left it, with questions gnawing at my mind. I can only assume this event was fate, carried out by a higher power. It seemed foolish, as I thought of flesh and bone, that I also thought of religion and powerful deities, that which could never be trusted, only guessed at.
I think it was these thoughts that led me to my travels I later life. It was strange that I could never agree with anyone around, they either believed in Gods and books, or the value of science and knowledge. Some told me, that life was given, long ago, by some divine creator! They believed a being alike to ourselves had formed all that is humanity, our majesty and our tyranny, that a creature, almighty perhaps but still a person, had formed all and then neglected his designs. I did not think so; how could one be so great yet so foolish?
Others told me, through this art of science which for so long had enticed me, that all we could see, imagine, and form, was lighted by a tiny spark, by chance! They told me all the beauty and splendor of the world was a mistake, both wretched and brilliant. They sought to blind me from the truth with their ‘solid facts’ and mighty science, yet were these things naught but toys of humanity?
I knew that another answer lay hidden. It was only an inkling, but it was such a powerful one that reached to the very depths of my soul and threatened to madden me with questions. There had to be an answer, one that lay thick with dust, in the passages of time and hidden to all but the most determined. So I resolved to leave my birthplace and seek with all my being for this answer, this secret formula for life itself, that would finally put me to peace or drive me mad once it was within my grasp.I waited no less than ten days as I said my goodbyes and made ready to leave Ireland, perhaps for good. My friends and family were shocked, some merely amused and others, perhaps, a little glad of my departure.
So it was that I left, on a boat, still not knowing why, for England. It was, after all, the only other country I had visited before and it was a good place to start. As soon as I had arrived upon England’s shores I began to scour the land in search of any clues I could unravel. I was subject to many long drawn theories and countless religious rambling yet none of them seemed even remotely right.
Three months later, I had had quite enough.
It was clear that I would not find what I sought here. I left England the next day and began a more hurried search in other Countries, following no clear route nor with a single clue to track, only the impulses burning in my veins. In the next two years I had visited the Netherlands, Canada, China, and Japan. I did not stay long in these places, for though I found the people both fascinating and good natured, the ones I met seemed oblivious to me questions. I became both weary and more determined and so I thought of going to America. While I suspected that I would find even less than any other Country, I hoped that to some extent the fire in my heart would be a little abated, and I would return to my search with renewed vigor.
It was not to be so.
To be truthful, I spent at least a week in peace, as although I was constantly moving, I could not resist such places that could provide such sparkling beaches and wondrous monuments. However, I soon discovered that many whom I encountered were divided into two quite select groups. There were those who beheld religion so greatly, that it bordered on foolishness, to the ones that believed in nothing but greed and riches. I would be a cruel man to dismiss all who dwelled there as such, but it seemed that the few of those who were the merry and high spirited people I had pictured were greatly confused by my questions, whilst those who understood them I quickly befriended.
So it was that I left America both glad and disheartened, for I had always believed it to be the center of the earth, the place where it all happened, and the answer to my questions. I had been very wrong, but I had at least made lifelong friends, whom understood me to a certain degree yet never completely. I promised myself that I would go to one last country and search for my secret, and if I failed, I would return home immediately.
Again, guided by an unknown force I made my way to Africa, a place I admit I had often fantasized of. It was beautiful, while being hot and barren, and there was a life there of such abundance, so exotic that I could not even conceived the idea. To meet such creatures, that I had only met in miserable cages with glum looks, out in the open at one with nature gave me great peace of mind. I grew to love the country and its people, yet as I progressed I was both angered and disgusted.
While the beginnings of my journey saw me through the wealthy parts of the Africa, where food, clothing and riches lay in abundance, as I began to unveil the poverty and misery that had lay hidden.
I began to curse this world and I began to curse myself, for though I knew all I had was in excess I could not tear it from myself.
I spent several weeks neglecting my task, and instead took some time to empathize with the natives.
For a while I felt like one of the poor and lowly and like them I was angered at this world and its injustice.
Where now was this great God, whom I had blessed and believed in during my youth, did his great love not spread further than the fat and comfortable?
Yet my anger soon passed as I did my best to bring joy to the deprived and most of all the children.
They seemed fascinated with me, and unlike the adults they did nothing to hide it.
I was the mysterious man, from a far off land, clothed like a king, who had seen many lands and many people.
It was normal for me to be found close to the fire at night, telling my tales with added drama and even borrowing parts from my favorite literature.
Of course I was selfish, as for every story I told, I demanded one in return.
It was fascinating how, enticed by the fire and atmosphere, the people of this small village could become the greatest storytellers in the world.
I listened perhaps more intently than the children had, and as I took notes and asked questions I fell in love with the answers.
Yet before long I was required to leave, and it was with a heavy heart that I continued my journey, and was lost within the gloom before the dying embers of the fire had turned to dust.
*
Now on my journey's I had picked up a talent for listening, and if necessary, extracting many truths from rumors.
So it came to be that I learnt of a woman, living deep in the barren plains, was of a strange type, and could, it was said, unravel the very meaning of life.
Of course I was very cynical of this at first, but after a while, pondering got the better of me and I decided to seek this woman.
It did not take long, two days later I was on the path through a dusty and grim landscape, coming ever closer to an ugly and dark shape blotting the horizon.
It could not have been described as being any more than a shanty house,
Its walls were made of old scraps of metal and rotten bark, and seemed to be stuck together with dried mud.
A faint smell emanated from within, it was not unpleasant, but strangely old and natural, not at all like a home should smell.
It was crude in shape yet clever in design, as though its creator had seen it as work of art and not a home.
With this in mind I entered and was greeted with shadow and darkness.
Once my eyes had adjusted to the gloom I was able to make out a few things.
I could see many old rugs and muddy materials lining the dirty walls and floors, while deeper inside me could distinguish a few larger objects made of a dull metal, evidentially some form of cooking apparatus.
The only other thing mentionable was a collection of old and worn tables and chairs placed around the room in a disorganized fashion.
Yet there, in the corner, clothed in mismatched rags and seated in an old rocking chair, sat a figure, small and bent over.
They had not yet detected my presence, for a door did not exist, merely a larger hole through which to enter.
I waited a while and then coughed politely to indicate my presence.
The figures head snapped upwards and I was met with a steely gaze and a face both dark and withered.
She stared at me for some time, as though she was mentally sizing me up, worming out aspects of my personality and divulging my secrets.
After a few painful moments, she relaxed, and indicated that I should sit down, as I saw her hand retreat from a particularly nasty looking stick.
“I assume you are Anna. Melvora?” I asked immediately.
She merely nodded, and after leaving her seat she began to make some sort of tea by infusing stones in water.
I merely watched with fascination as I grew more impatient by the second.
Once she had finished, she handed me a rather chipped cup and sat down once more.
“Well strange man from far off, what can Anna do for you?
Do you need my services?” she asked, as though she possessed some greater power.
I snorted into my tea and resisting the urge to laugh faced her,
“No, I don't think that will be necessary, I am in perfect health, as you see, No, the thing I come for is much more important”.
She gazed at me, as though she knew exactly what I wanted, but she did not mention it if she did, she merely stared at me passively.
So, I found myself asking the same question which had confused and confounded many.
“What is life, and what is its purpose”
She looked, for a second, quite happy, perhaps a little smug, but then it seemed to turn to grief as she glared at me with sadness in her eyes.
“Oh! Foolish little one! Would you spend all your life, trying to dissect its meaning? To waste life, pondering it?
There are few who seek such answers, yet all of them find death in the end, for it seeks them as a moth to a flame.
You would do better to turn away from this path for it does not end in happiness, only grief, for knowledge is a burden great to bear, and those who are foolish are the most content!”
She stopped quite abruptly and let her words wash over me.
I was both excited and afraid, for I now knew that I had been right, that there was a secret, buried deep, but still present, and yet I had stumbled upon what seemed to be a terrible fate, which I did not fully understand.
Perhaps if I had understood, my life would have been very different, I would have left at once, and forgotten my quest in fear, spending my days in ignorance yet bliss, but it was not to be so.
“Death?”
I asked, almost terrified of the answer.
“Aye,” she answered
“It comes for us all, those who seek the answer.
To seek life and to find death is our curse.
For many years I searched and then I found, and now I wait once more”
She seemed tired now, tired and old, as though it had been centuries since she had rested, like me searching, but for much longer.
I soon found myself believing that she was ancient, and it was not difficult once you had gazed upon her, for she seemed weighed down by the ghosts of a hundred human lives.
She looked up suddenly, as though detecting an invisible enemy and a look of terror came over her face.
She began to shake uncontrollably and her eyes widened with terror.
I grabbed her to try and steady her in some way but she did not stop for some time.
When she had relaxed, I felt her grow weak in my arms and she seemed to be looking through me, as though a terrible weight was slowly leaving her.
Yet, she wanted to cling to this life; she feared leaving the warmth and vigor that is life, to reside in dust and shadows,
But she was only human.
“He comes for me at last....”
Were all she said, and then her head fallen back and her eyes closed, and I knew she was dead.
I gaped at the body in terror, not knowing what to do.
Yet in my fear, I failed to notice a figure that had entered the room.
It did not matter who she was, or why she was here.
Only what she saw.
That was me, a stranger, apparently terrified, clutching a dead woman.
She screamed in terror, and I was barely able to escape into the sunshine as I heard shrieks of 'murderer!' follow me as I fled that place wiser, yet miserable, and vowed to return home.
My curse had begun.
You probably will be to if you dabble more in the philosophical aspects, a lot of great works carry that whole theme of philosophical thought versus what defines us in life.
)
