Do you think of yourself as a rebel? Your path has two ends | Rebellion, Ego, Conformity, Loneliness, and Creativity
some writing motivated by my dreamscape non-fiction
Hello everyone…here is a journey into my labyrinth and I hope this provides you with something to contemplate.
I know this writing style might not be for everyone…
So let me know what you think!
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The true rebel lives a life full of discomfort.
Peace?
That doesn’t exist for the rebel.
The rebel spends their life going against everything society tells them to hold true. So the rebel spends their life fighting conformity.
Yet, the rebel isn’t innocent.
Is the rebel a hero?
Or is the rebel making an attempt of convincing you they are the hero?
The rebel’s life is full of its own contradictions, sins, and hypocrisy. As humans, we take part in one grand contradiction.
But are there no heroes?
The rebel spends their life trying to bring society under their will. They can only subvert the narrative of society by convincing society to follow their will.
Right?
They want their rebellion to create a conformity with their narrative.
So the rebel lives a life of opposing, yet subverting.
But what does this make them?
A hero or an idealist without the means to bring their own aspirations into fruition?
The true rebel gives up all they have for their fight. But at what cost?
They choose not to abide by societal norms. They think that by doing so, they can undo everything society has come to be. Yet in their attempts, they are corrupting themselves, all the while commending themselves on their purity.
They fight for people while fighting themselves. Their rebellion becomes a mirror for society…and we all could use more reflection.
The rebel has an ego of grandeur.
The rebel has an unrelenting arrogance.
The rebel is forever in chaos.
The rebel will never know peace.
Society hates its unmaskers until society embraces the mask of the unmasker. And then the cycle repeats.
I wonder about my own rebellion…
The rebellion of the writer…
There’s a harsh reality of being a writer, especially one that enjoys writing about narratives and the conformity we face around them.
Is writing my rebellion, my escape?
Am I dragging you into my escape?
How do I avoid the trap? The trap of every word I write, every word I speak, is creating a rigid picture for you to consume. A rigid picture that wishes for you to see my path and for me to send you down one of your own.
But am I partially responsible for sending you down that path?
Or is my ego unbound?
The stroke of the ego.
Hello, ego.
We cannot escape conformity. Even when I write, the conformity has a hand on me wishing to pull me back down. Do not dare rebel, for you will be lonelier, so I’m told.
But what about all that is found within loneliness?
But what is my choice?
The words I write. The stories that surround me. They are seeds that grow into trees and I am the sunlight feeding my own trees.
But where is the sun?
Yet, if I am also a seed, then how can they be grown?
The trees we grow build into the network of the trees being grown all around us.
We create ourselves through the words we use and the stories we live by.
The story I tell myself guides my future. And the stories I consume guide the story that I then tell myself. This same story is true for you.
Do you still want to consume this story?
Am I being vague enough, while being concise? Ah! I want you to tell your own story. All of this is my attempt to give you something to ponder while not forcing a persuasive narrative upon you.
But can we escape the spread of our narrative?
As life is simply a stream of thoughts, memories, and moments that are woven together to allow you to hold on to a persona for yourself.
You present yourself as a persona.
You then present a different persona to everyone around you.
And when you interact with the world, the world begins influencing that persona; you cannot escape the influence.
Remember, even a fool can be persuasive with words, as the fool doesn’t necessarily desire wisdom. When the fool speaks, they wish to pull you into their own foolery. And the line between the fool and the wise wizards is not black or white, but grey.
And every fool and every wizard started their life as a rebel.
Hello, rebel.