Atlas

Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to bear the world on your shoulders ? Or even a single mountain ?

What does it mean for a human being to grow, to mature ? What miracle happens in that slight amount of time during which a child becomes a teen, then an adult ?

"You are what your deep, driving desire is.
As your desire is, so is your will.
As your will is, so is your deed.
As you deed is, so is your destiny."

What does it mean for a person to be herself ? What is your true self, your nature, deep inside ? And how do you appear before other people ? Is your image in accordance with your nature ? Or is it nothing more than an appearance, a varnish cast upon the undisclosable recesses of your soul, a web of lies ?




I am a polished, soft spoken individual. Polite, reasonable, attentive, rational, affable. Living a harsh but virtuous life, living according to my own principles and morality. Aiming at becoming something better.
I have observed the mistakes of others, and made my own, I have pondered, analysed them. Understood them. Generalized them, and in I, correcting them.
From exemplary people I have copied, assimilated in me what made them as such. Meliorated that even, whenever possible.

It all starts with the will to be better, the will for perfection, power, control, prestige, being pure, pristine, flawless.
Then, observation, understanding, preparation, and finally, a grand strike, with all my massed strength.

I know what makes better people. I certainly know a lot, which is not to say that I know everything. I'd wish I was that wise a man already. But that, anyway, is irrelevant to my point here.
I know a lot. I've put a great deal of efforts into making a better person of me.

But I know too much. I am not who I appear to be. Deep inside my self, nothing has changed. I am still the same spoiled, vain, frightened child. I haven't truly evolved during all these years. I have been bearing my principles, constantly controlling my self, remodeling it into the likeness of a would-be wise man, a modern saint, a gentleman.

But that is only the exaggerated swelling of a tiny part of me, a part that has had control for years, but also, a part whose strength is growing thin.

I know a lot but what I know and do of that knowledge is nothing more than a chosen constraint nowadays.

I may not be able to perform the correct tricks, to put together the right amount of effort and self control, I might not be able to hold my self to such high, synthetic standards any longer.

And whom I might be deep inside, will come about as a shock to many a person who thought knew me.

Well sorry then, but I just can't bear it anymore. It's been two years already since my will has started to wear thin. It's actually pretty incredible that it has managed, and still does, to stand up one more time, and once more, and more.