Friday, June 5, 2009

The Vision

In the sea there was a rock. And on the rock was a city. And the city was built of stones, cut and polished, and crafted together perfectly, as strong as a single stone. The stones were all jewels, and precious, and strong. And the city was called Truth.

About the rock was the sea. And the sea was dark and violent, with giant waves, and whirlpools, and funnels, and strong currents. Glistening off the tops of the peaks of the waves you could see the light from the city, and in the sea were people of all kinds, swimming, and in boats, and rafts floating, and rolling on the surface of the sea. And the sea was called the Sea of Error.

The sea would rage, and wash, and bash, and hit against the rock. But the rock was as hard as a diamond, and nothing; not a single pebble, nor even the smallest grain, would break away from the rock.

The sea reached in all directions beyond seeing. As one journeyed across the sea away from the city the darkness would grow deeper and deeper as the light of the city was the only light. If you journeyed away from the city a great distance, the light would still glint off the surface of the sea.
As you ventured farther and farther away from the city you would feel the waters of the sea pulling, and rushing into a very strong current that pulled faster and harder away from the city. At a very great distance from the city the sea rolled over a rounded edge and the waters oozed downward in long strands like slime. Drips would fall from the strands and carry everything in the drips into the blackness below. At the edge of the sea no man could fight the current and all who ventured that far were pulled over the rolled edge and slid helplessly down and would drop off into the abyss.

When a drop broke loose it would plummet for a greater distance than the whole of the distance across the sea from edge to edge. After the fall, the drip and all that it held would splatter into another sea below the first sea. This sea was made of molten lava and when a drop hit the surface it would cause a bright crack to open in the blackness, and red hot lava would shoot out, and steam would rise.

Suddenly the blackened surface would come alive with hideous black creatures rushing to the bright spot and lunging ferociously and mercilessly at it to tear and rip at whatever the drip had brought down with it. An eruption of orange light, and heat, and black soot would scatter about, hissing and searing into the other creatures and causing a great flurry of frantic activity.

Whenever a man went over the lip of the first sea in one of the drops, and hit the surface of the second sea he would be ripped at, and torn up, and shredded apart as soon as the hot surface was struck by his body. Although torn and mangled, he would not die but would remain alive. His body stretched across the scalding surface would fight to pull its own pieces back together only to be ripped apart again and again and again.

This sea’s creatures were made of hate. And once a man fell into the second sea he would also turn to hate. All the men and the creatures would endlessly scream and howl, and tear and shred at each other because all of their entire beings had become hate. They hated their fate. They hated the stench, and they hated the pain, and they hated the unbearable scorching heat. They hated all the men, and all of the merciless, hideous, and hateful creatures that surrounded them and scorned them, and lashed at them endlessly with no end, nor rest ever to be had, nor hoped for again.

Mostly they hated themselves. They knew they brought their own selves to this place freely. And they knew there was no return from this dank and wretched place of endless horrors and pains.

All who had come to the second sea had seen the city and its light. Some even had ventured near to it, some here had landed on the rock of diamond, and some had even entered the city. But now, hopeless and helpless they knew they had chosen this fate and would never know what it is like to be a citizen of the city of Truth. And that was a worse pain than all of the other torments since it came from within themselves. When they thought of the City their hate was the worst.

To themselves they would lament, “If only I had not ventured so far from the city of Truth on the Sea of Error.” And their hate would erupt with all the fury that hate can draw and they would seethe and explode and scream and tear at everything about them.

Such was the fate of those who ventured past the point of no return on the Sea of Error.

Those that live in, and on the Sea of Error are so numerous that one can scarcely see the waters between them. They are as varied in their shapes, and sizes and tempers and ideas as snowflakes are one from the other.

Some are quite alone. They float or swim about and speak to no one. Their thoughts, and words kept to themselves they go mostly unnoticed by the others. They move about quite freely as there are no ties to hold them, but are easy fodder for the hazards of the sea as neither are there hands to help them.

Some seem quite happy and content. They travel in clusters of familiar types and aid and show care one for the other. They offer guidance to their fellows and train their young ones to live in the sea. They for the most part act civilly towards each other and debate their courses of action each with the other to seek the best solutions.

Above the city was a bright light. From the light, a single column of light streamed down into the city and was reflected throughout the city so that the entire city appeared to glow and shine. The citizens of the city were of all sizes, and shapes, and colours, and tongues. Peace, joy, harmony and justice made their homes there among the citizens.

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