On The Wings of Hope : Prose

He was destined for great deeds. But his life consisted of trifles …

Your life is just a real trifle, right? But whether it’s your fault? Don’t worry, certainly, no. You were already born as such, brought up by your parents as such, educated and forged by a society as such, and you find it fun to remain as such yourself. You bear no responsibility for anything in your life, for responsibility is such a real trifle! You have no idea, actually, why it’s, your life, which has developed as so, and in no way differently. Probably, such was the will of casual circumstances unknown to you, and will of yours is such a trifle in comparison with ones of them. And who are you to become the master of own fate, already written in advance by someone?

From the very birth you have felt yourself born for great causes. It’s all the rest - pity humans! - have been doomed by their destinies to bear their cross of petty affairs, dreams and ambitions year after a year, while you have been made for something great, something grandiose, unforgettable, unrepeatable, almost eternal … something which is not a trifle. How strange is that that life hasn’t given you even a single chance to show others this greatness of yours - but appeared to be some sort of a pitiful beggar, constantly asking for a handout directly before your very eyes … How petty it’s from her part!

From time to time you managed to do that. Sometimes you felt with your very bones that you have finally made something important, kind, light, necessary - have helped somebody and made this world a bit kinder and warmer. But on the other hand, all these deeds of yours - they are such a true trifle compared to what you could potentially achieve. But - what a strange thing! - your life has developed exclusively on trifles. Or whether it was you demanding everything at once?

From time to time you came off second-best. Deceived and was deceived, beat and was bitten by stones, loved and hated simultaneously. Indeed, you felt how petty and insignificant are lots of your true motives, your promptings and aspirations … but whether had you no right for them? Besides, you still always have the time to rectify own errors … a trifle, surely, but such a pleasant one.

How petty others concerned you from time to time! And why, really, couldn’t they be more magnanimous, loving and understanding in relation to you? Why did they performed ridiculous things, spoke nonsenses, and tried to deduce you from your ideal self-image periodically? Whether did you grant them the right to behave as such with you? However, life already has had the time to make a strikeback to some based on their affairs … a trifle, truly, yet such a pleasant one.

If you had only known how to transform this world and make it kinder in relation to itself and to you in a single step! But one is always born as a genius, and never becomes him, right? And petty life has unfairly deprived you of the possibility to demonstrate own genius, hasn’t granted a slightest chance to spread own semi-burned wings and soar into the highest heights … And you was almost ready to conquer Olympus inside, yes? And here and now you along with your internal frenzy and external impenetrable blissful smile keep shifting day by day papers from one folder into the next, and from one table over another, calling this nonsense your job instead. You are such a big chief for now - indescribably greater than all these unworthy ones, fawning before you, who didn’t manage to climb up that fake Olympus on which you have been sitting for a lot of years of own life already … a trifle, true and true, but such a pleasant one indeed!

To tell the truth, you have already started forgetting of these pink dreams of own childhood and of brave aspirations of own youth - they, probably, were too unearthly as well … too non trifle? But, heck, what’s the reason to think of that for now? You have your official wife in possession, own house and a countryside cottage in addition to a solid bank account … you have your new life. The fear of death overcomes you at times, but you promptly drive these petty and itching thoughts away. You, certainly, would want to live forever, but is still compelled to use all that substitutes, created by a society - like your numerous posterity, for example. You have been born for great deeds, but have doomed yourself to die, having still not realized your true divine potential …

And, after all, what is a death for the one who have never truly lived … a real trifle, right?

15.08.2011

Salary