The world runs like clockwork that is irreversibly historically deterministic. Sometimes I feel like everything is as it is and cannot be changed, that nobody can really be different even though that is our primary goal. A goal which we strive for with our entire consciousness and being. A goal so subtly unattainable. 

Society, man. Society! Society blocks us into demographics and tells us we have the freedom to choose, but they don't mean it. They don't want you to choose, it wants your soul, your will, your FIRE! 

Chaos! 

Noise! 

Errands! 

Responsibilities! 

A-muse-ment! 

Friends! 

Politics! 

Job!

After it all we have arrived nowhere, we have fallen into the clockwork of fatalism, the enemy's gates. 

"Why? Why did I end up this way?" asked the hungry sojourner as he lay in flat surrender at the base of the enemy's gates. 

"Because you fled from pain, you fled from struggle." Answered the enemy. "You grew content, you feared death. You found one piece and kept it, only to be caught up by the beautifully cruel turns of my wheels! 

The sojourner stared into the enemy's eyes and the enemy stared back at him intensely. It was terrifying. In his eyes was the presence of all evil, all wickedness. The greatest fears known to mankind in its conscious state burned like fires in the enemy's eyes, and more fears, still unknown to man, moved inside egg-like shells. The sojourner turned away, not able to bear the depth of the enemy's eyes.

"You wanted everything nice and organized. You feared doubt, destruction and pain. How did you think you could ever conquer me? Am I a man like yourself that you come at me with mere numbers and manpower? Everything you know is powerless against me, it is what you don't know that will kill me." The enemy finished.

The sojourner looked again into the eyes of the enemy only to realize the enemy was not there. The enemy was nothing, emptiness, abyss. The sojourner continued to look and realized the enemy was gone, non-existent, yet still staring right into his eyes.