Chapter Twelve: The Boy Who Cried Wolf

There are many things that can be derived from several literatures, particularly in the world of Fantasies, that alert the senses and improve the learning capabilities of a reader. Indeed, what beauty it was to witness the sophistication of the construction of words, which are built beautifully from the materials provided for by the human condition. Reading explores the depth of life. It is the one thing missing from solving the puzzle of someone's existence that later on leads him to an eternal purpose.

Many stories provide a certain platform on which to discuss the perspective of life; mostly an author explores the subject of criticisms, saying everything that exposes the poison of unscrupulous persons into the light of awareness, discuss evil ploys, or deliberately mutilate the elements of the plot so that the pain of the experience becomes so unbearable until the eyes can no longer withhold the tears. It then becomes a testament to the feeling of emotions, to honor what has been felt in the situation, and to immortalize love with all its concealed beauty and madness.

What could, then, be the hindrance into the discovery of poems, hidden in the business of life?

Questions that inquire into our madness simply misses the point, because each of us hold certain characteristics that are unique, pretty, and valid. Anyone who says that somebody had no friend only needs to walk into the fullness of the library and introduce himself to a world full of magic by making friends with the dreams of fantasies, that, then, charactarize the personalities of the human condition into bearable pieces of the elements to support a moral of the story and the importance of living despite the odds being presented.

It has been argued that poets secretly criticize life by fully expressing one's self into the tiny verses of a poem that hold the gravity of their pain and suffering. Many of those in the business of writing, like the poets, had gone through the intricacies of the valley of despair as well; they have travelled its rocky paths back and forth, and they simply know how to get there, and then go back home as many times as they could. Writing is a lonely endeavor, after all, and survival skills are crucial.

There was an anecdote about a boy who cried wolf, and it is universally assumed that everybody already heard the richness of its narration. Maybe it is not good to make fun of the village people (to cry "wolf" several times when his flock was not really under attack) yet the essence of the story lies in this juncture; then when the wolf finally attacked the lambs, the village people no longer care about the boy's cries of "wolf," even though he did it desperately and many times than necessary. This narrative is one proof that some story ends with dire consequences.

There is no obvious happy ending here, but still the story was told many times, and has been shared for posterity's sake. But for what purpose?

People seldom dream and fantasize things because humanity has an obsession with reality. What is real is very subjective, though, and those who seek something more than the conscious reality will find a way to discover what was hidden within its declared shallowness. There, they will see a spark of magic, a different view of suffering, and a unique celebration of sacrifice. They unhurriedly appreciate the irony of life as it slowly unfolds right before their eyes, thereby creating an enchanting moment on its own.

For what its worth, people reluctantly embrace the discipline enshrined in the subconscious mind. From there, as their manner of thinking are influenced by the thoughts they acquire consciously, they will eventually learn about the beauty of the restraints that make everyone else free. Unless if hatred finds its way in the dark corners of their heart, then in which case the process is reversed, and evil is unleashed.

In the end, life may be pretty bad. Or it may be really good. Whatever it is. What matters most is what people learn from the circumstances around them, and this is exactly the reason why most anecdotes are told, shared, written, and remembered.

Truly, something important is to be acquired from them that awakens the sense of poetry and bravely encourage the literary pursuit.

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