The Inner War

Here I stand alone.

Alone in this empty hallway, where all doors are closed to me. My shadow is my only company. Behind those doors I know they're watching me. Bureaucrats, businessmen, and the regular haunts that run this place. Their watch through the peepholes built into those well-secured doors, waiting to see what I'll do next.

I've knocked on all of those doors. I've seeked out opportunity and admission into the realms they've made for themselves. I've never asked much. Just a reason to wake up in the mornings. Maybe some finance for food and debts. I've been reasonable and I've been polite. No handouts, not my style. Just a job. The door slams in my face, over and over again. "Not in this lifetime freako!" laugh out the catcalls behind the door. "You're too strange and too angry. Your brand of nonsense corrupts."

I'm a threat to them. Something unusual and different. Too outspoken for my own good. Speak too quick, defend myself too hard. That kind of behavior can be imitable. No good when you're relying solely on the blank stares of burned out people to stay wealthy. I just might have what it takes to open a few minds. An outcast without ever coming in.

They keep me crippled and distant. Tucked away like some dirty secret. Locked in that hallway, they wait for me to grow old. They'll wait until I die.

I'm not one to go that easy.

I've still got weapons after all. I'm a determined S.O.B. Hard to crack harder to break. And I have my voice. I have every word, every memory, and every emotion at my disposal. And I will use them. Through speech and hand, spoken and written, I will have the last say. My voice will carry beyond those guarded doors, and lodge themselves into the ears of those poor blank souls, waiting on the other side. The venom they carry will provide something their hearts have not felt for eons: hope.

They will know that they've been done wrong. That the creatures that sustain them will use them up and suck them dry. That there is more to their lives than the walls surrounded by partitions and fiber optics. My song will reanimate dead tissue, as they stand for the first time in decades and find the strength to say, "Dammit, this isn't right."

They will turn on their masters, who with blood-stained suits and horrified glances, will know they've been beaten. I won over the people without even having to walk through the precious doors. Deny one person, you deny them all. And for souls looking for nothing more than acceptance and purpose, this is one denial too many. The revolution moves quickly. From the hallway, I can hear the overthrown be quartered and ceremoniously flushed down the low-flows. A sigh of relief fills the lungs of the victorious. Their destiny is their own again. As the doors open, me and my new comrades leave that godforsaken hallway and walk into the sunlight.

Years from now, I will sit in a rocking chair, gray and aged. I'll watch the world I was a participant in making. Children will scurry through the ancient mausoleums we made for ourselves in days gone by, and talk of one day achieving their dreams. Their parents, founders of this new time, will have pursued their passions to the fullest and live a life without regret. I close my eyes and smile. For the first time in my days, I feel like I've accomplished my tasks. Like I'm truly accepted.

...This is just a sample of the bullshit world I live in.