The Square by Aaron Senor
Everything changed when the revolution had run its course and things began to settle down, with Gregory’s life becoming quiet again under the blanket of a new rule. The rules of the society changed the rules of how his life could be lived and he became uneasy in the new sound that the silence made. Part of him could not bear to leave the comfort he felt being home, but the Other part could not bear to stay and die in the only place it had ever known.
“Why should I depart from Moscow over such triviality? This city is my home, there is no danger,” Gregory said, “I have no reasonable motivation to go besides childish fantasy. I only am moved by reason these days.”
“Is reason what made you desert the army? Does reason only lighten the load you would need to carry? You must go; it’s not good for you here any longer. It would be unreasonable to stay in a place where your soul does not reside as well,” said the Other from the shadows of the quieter corners of his mind.
“But I know this place. It is all I know. I don’t know anywhere else like I know Moscow,” He said, his eyes set on the ground. “I would be lost anywhere else. I would not know how to start.”
The Red Square was moving around him, thousands of sounds echoing off the brick underneath his feet, bouncing off the stonewalls of the buildings surrounding the square. The Palace of the Tsar had become the fortress of a new monarch; its eagles had fallen and were replaced by red stars. The automobiles, voices, and footsteps of the square combined into one distinct, all encompassing din, resembling a distant waterfall, its rush reflecting off the bricks of the spiraling cathedrals and brick enlaced ground; only finding release when it reverberated out into the open blue sky.
“It is time Gregory, you cannot wait. What reason do you have to stay besides your nostalgia? The land no longer wants you; your heart has already left it. Why not use your own footsteps and follow its lead?” the Other said. “Sentimentality is no proper motivation for reason, but you have shown you are still driven by it. So what stops you? Fear?
“I just have gotten to know the sounds and the bricks. Their spiraling, interlocking faces are the most familiar faces I know. I would rather stay here than encounter things I do not know somewhere else. I’m afraid of not knowing what the future holds, why shouldn’t I stay here where it’s safe?”
“Because you have banished yourself from the land by distancing yourself from what it has become. If you will not change with the land, then you must change the land you reside. Time is of the essence, you must go now.”
Gregory stepped forward, the very action creating a path he had never taken before, that particular combination of bricks beneath his foot were strange and foreign in that moment and he found it exhilarating. He had already taken steps to leave in the past but had never made it this far. In the years before, fear and comfort had put him to sleep in the same bed every night. His heart beat through his chest, the square’s sound became more distant, and both the familiar and unfamiliar stared back from silently beneath his footsteps.
“But what if I fail? What if America is not all I think it will be? What if what I think is a dream will wake again into a colder reality?”
“Every destination becomes familiar someday, but that doesn’t matter. It is still America, where your destiny is calling you. It doesn’t matter if it bites down on you, grinds your flesh, and spits out your bones, you must go. This place loves you no more, and you return its feelings. Leave.”
“But what about my family, or all the friends that I have? I want to be with them.”
“Being carried through a gray life surrounded by your family is far inferior to walking bravely alone towards heaven. Leave. Your future is will not wait for you.”
“But I am so afraid. What if my dreams wither and die?”
“Then join the masses and return a failure, discard your ambition; quiet desperation and all that. The tsar is dead, you have sworn no allegiances but to your own fear, why be attracted to it’s voice?”
“But that is not what I want, who would want such a thing,” he said, feeling a twinge of guilt.
“Plenty want their dreams but are too afraid to attain them. Will you join in?”
Gregory was about to speak but felt a wave of excitement come from within. He heard the sound of possibility, the clamor of a gargantuan future of fame, doing what he loved, the Other’s voice loudly clattering like crowds shouting his name, or like birds singing in a tree in spring. His pace slightly quickened and his tempo rose a degree.
Utility always sings songs too serious for a child’s ears he suddenly realized, stepping out of seeing the future and coming back to the Square roaring all around him. He now heard the dissonance of an uncertain future over the childish excitement. His inborn fear of the unknown, of uncertainty, of instability had struck him harder than it ever had before, sharply contrasting the emotion he had felt a few steps ago. He imagined destitution no worse than what he already endured, seeing a room just as small and dark as the purgatory of his apartment, slowing his steps to a leisurely walk, looking at the real life honking and walking all around him.
The clashing waves of the songs in his head went still when he heard the tranquil call of his bed in his small, reasonably warm apartment. The crowds had stopped their cheer, the birds had ceased their song. He decided to conjure up the belief that the worst could never happen to him while he was safely here. He turned back as he had always done before, and went home to sleep, feeling too much guilty relief to make any other choice, the Other shriveling into the back of his mind.
I figured it out..
Your level of intuition is classified by how in tune you are with absolute awareness of self. When you throw in the laws of relativity in a universe experiencing an infinite amount of outcomes; your perception may be broad enough to just graze another reality of yourself..
Conscious awareness means you see yourself in one or more outcomes. Hence the term, Visionary or Psychic. Just to give a few examples. Maybe everyone as a certain level of foresight.
Either way, just an idea..moving on.
"The power of belief means you know where you are headed."
My Few Memories of William
I sleep on the opposite side of my bed so I can stare out the window while dozing off. That’s kind of what this picture represents..my subtle limbo like state between consciousness and dreaming while looking out into the night I love so much. Moments ago my phone rang.. It was my mother. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Her best friend William passed away… I knew him when I was only a little boy. He had this huge garden of sunflowers over 6ft tall out in Southern California.. He’d always give us quarters and make us sun tea. The non-sweet kind I absolutely hated. I hate seeing my mother in pain. She’s had a rough couple of weeks. I’m starting to really feel like I’m all she’s got right now.. Living my life is one thing, but I will pick her up every time she falls. I love that woman more then life. #Real