I am finishing up the series concept, but before that, let me fascimilate the conversation I had today with an old friend.
Me: They never listen, do they?
Me: They live in their own fantasy worlds. Where they are always right, and kings of their realities. That they are people of principle. And they call me delusional. I mean, I take comic books as Holy Scripture, but even that pales in comparison to their self-deceit.
Me: I know it's not easy. Even with my awareness, I find it hard to listen to people, especially when they're full of shit. The amount of garbage out there, being spewed forth, the duplicity and the deceit, it's astounding. Even I partake in the exercise.
Friend: Look, I can talk to you, because we are direct people.
Me: Exactly. We are pretty simple, aren't we? I have told them the truth many, many times. And yet, they still believe that I am like them. That I can do only what they can do. That I can only think the way they can think - petty and cowardly. Spiteful and masochistic. It's extremely judgmental, and coming from me - the most judgmental person on earth - well, that's something, isn't it?
Friend: What exactly did they do?
Me: Nothing much, really. I think me being me, makes them insecure. I mean, I am really, really, really ridiculously good-looking.
Friend: And we are smart people. But those morons, well...
Me: I have accepted the fact that I can't change people.
Friend: Well, you accept that, but I have accepted that I need to leave the country. We will never be appreciated here, Amir. We will always be second-class citizens due to us not being able to kiss ass. Or get along with everyone.
Me: I... understand. It's not even me claiming to be the smartest guy on earth, though I am the sexiest, and it's all common sense anyway. But...
Friend: I tell you, this country is poison.
Me: Well... I had several chances to leave. I didn't, because I sense there is something I have to do here. Some unfinished business.
Friend: You do that. I have given up on these morons.
Me: I have no hope for them. Not anymore. I feel like Prometheus. I bring fire, only to see these Homo Habilli burning themselves with it.
Friend: I get your point. Face it. There's no place for you or for me in this cesspool. They'll never listen to you. Even if they do, it would be to find cracks so they could screw you over.
Me: But there are some. A few. Who are like you and me. Don't you think we owe it to our fraternity, to bring them or their projects to term? As was done to us, will be done unto them?
Friend: You're talking like a superhero again.
Me: Shit! Well... there's really nothing I can do, is there?
Me: Accepting that I can't fix people was hard. Having patience, especially with stupidity, was even harder. Now, this? I understand that there's nothing I can do to resist the situation. In fact, resistance is the root of all unhappiness. And I do accept it. And ...
Me: And that's that, isn't it? There's really nothing else. Once I have accepted the fact, there's nothing else to do but relax and let the chips fall where they may. The way things are arranged, it is a mighty steep fall, indeed. For all mankind.
Friend: You won't feel guilty again?
Me: For what? Guilt is for Christians. Is there a sign on my forehead that says, "Here is the Great Mind of Amir Hafizi - responsible for everyone and everything"?
Friend: Could have fooled me.