2005-04-05

Glory True

Giddily I hop and skip. It's a glorious day. Even though it is raining Ty tells us on the short-wave Command-B-Censure radio it's beautiful outside. Who are we to argue?

I pass by a beggar. I feel dizzy. Why are there beggars? One of Ty's peaceful representatives comes to help me along. I am told it was nothing and that the Tyism is fair and just.

Later, on this glorious day, Ty speak to us from his desk to tell us about the big, bad enemies at the gate. They want to steal our share of the sun and blue sky. Soot covers their skin and we must never let them in. I turn and find one of their magazines being sold. Once again I shake my head. Something is not right. The magazine was an illusion. Yes, that's it.

Further along the road, a magician is playing card tricks. A bear speaks to me. A caribou is running against the herd. Nothing seems real. Why is everything in constant perpetual uniformity? People speak but are not saying anything. What is happening to my glorious day?

I go to ask for protection but the lady at the counter says there is no help available. Why is it raining? Because it's glorious someone tells me. What does that mean?

I look to Ty for guidance, but he is nowhere to be found. Nowhereman is he? He only appears to think me up. Anti-illusion serum is offered. But I run away.

Suddenly I'm in a hallway. Ty! I shall find him here. Lord, the rhetoric and beauty of these walls. They overwhelm. I cry and sing for my glorious day. I slowly walk, unsure and fearful of a truth I may encounter. Men are sweeping everywhere. Red layers and layers and layers and layers that seem endless hold me back. Papers are shuffled back and forth. Diplomas are hanging with broken frames on the walls. It's a real kaleidoscope of pure nonsense. Heads are down. People show no imagined soul. Nothing seems to move forward. Stacks of misplaced money are piled. Why is there a tailor making pockets nearby?

I look outside as the day gets darker. No one is wearing pants. There are many doors with titles. None are actual. I find a door that opens. I look in. It is Ty.

H-he's is a cardboard? He stares back blankly. His eyes. Those eyes! These eyes! Empty. Once filled. The howls are loud. They are laughing at me. Who is the fool? I have found the heart of mediocrity and peace of mind. I close the door.

I feel free. Free to lead myself. I make my way out. I have to tell my friends. I must convince them.

After all, it is a glorious day.

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