83 lines
4.1 KiB
Plaintext
83 lines
4.1 KiB
Plaintext
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### ###
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### ###
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### #### ### ### ### ####
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### ### ##### ### ###
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### ### ### ### ###
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### ### ##### ### ###
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########## ### ### ##########
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### ###
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### ###
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Underground eXperts United
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Presents...
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####### ## ## ####### # # ####### ####### ## ##
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## ## ## ## ##### # ## ## ## ##
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#### ## ## #### # # #### ## #######
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## ## ## ## ##### # ## ## ##
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## ## ####### ####### # # ####### ## ##
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[ The Crowd and the Stigma ] [ By The GNN ]
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____________________________________________________________________
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____________________________________________________________________
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THE CROWD AND THE STIGMA
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by THE GNN/DualCrew-Shining/uXu
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Every night, I have the same dream. It is not a nightmare, but is still
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bothering me, day in and day out. I am not afraid of it. I just wish to
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understand it.
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A crowd has gathered to enjoy and exploit the mere company of each other.
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I stand outside it, observing the people and their games. They laugh, they
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dance and they sing. I do not wish to participate, because I believe they are
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all false. Therefore, I am not dissatisfied with my position.
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I have, after all, chosen it myself. My left arm hurts.
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Then, I hear someone calling for me, from inside the massive crowd. At
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first, I try to pretend that I am not aware of the voice. I try to cheat
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myself into the belief that it is not my name that is shouted. But I fail. My
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eyes begin to wander over the group of people. I see a person in the middle
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of it, looking at me, wanting me to join the crowd. How strange. I thought
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the shadows made me invisible.
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So I step out of the shadows and slowly make my way into the group. I am
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not alone anymore, yet without being a part of the personality of the crowd.
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But I fail to localize the person who called my name. I search and I search,
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but every time I have almost reached the person, she disappears farther into
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the crowd.
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She is trying to avoid me, and I cannot understand why. After all, she was
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the one who called my name. She wanted me to come, but at the same time not,
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I say to myself. And I just cannot understand why. My despair increases with
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every failed attempt to find the person. I blame the crowd for not letting me
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succeed; they push and pull me in different directions all the time.
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Suddenly, a thought pops into my mind: maybe the crowd does not exist?
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Perhaps I just believe it is there? And suddenly - as if an invisible flash
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of lightning had struck me - my mind opens up completely, my eyes see the
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truth. The crowd, the hunt, the failures, is understood to its fullest
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extent: it is my stigma, the tattoo I carved into my own arm in the belief
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that it would protect me, that now stops me from succeeding with my task of
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finding the person who called my name.
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Realizing this, the crowd vanishes. It is as if it had never existed. The
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only ones left are you and I. But you look away, avoiding meeting my eyes. As
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you turn around to flee deeper into the crowd - that now only exists in your
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own mind - I see that you carry the same stigma on your arm.
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/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
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There is no such thing as 'the public good'.
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Hey, mail a letter to <gnn@update.uu.se> just for the hell of it.
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A cop is a state paid gangster.
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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uXu #374 Underground eXperts United 1997 uXu #374
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Call SOTH'S DOMAIN -> +1-401-463-8889
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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