Figures of the One Must Go
Page 1
Victor Living
Symbolical Logo-Roots
Book One
Figure of the One Must Go
First Edition
Copyright © 2017 Victor Living
All rights reserved.
Contents
Author’s Note
Philosophical Path
1. Figures of the One
2. Symbolical Dialogues
3. Leave Earlier
4. Alignment of the Circles
5. What’s Left for Us?
6. Targets and Hits
7. Are We All Theater?
Psychological Path
8. Modern Despots?
9. Not Ugly?
10. Thorny Days
11. Male Marriage
12. Persistent Look at One Point
13. Start and Stop
14. Meticulous Look at Yourself
15. Broken Key
Political Path
16. Politicians
17. Capitalism
18. Who Knows?
19. Memory of 9/11
20. Democracy
Lyrical Path
21. In the Middle
22. Childhood
23. From Spring to Tender Parting
24. Altitudinal Scene
25. Gone Too Far?
26. Score for Woman
Author’s Note
Dear reader, you have opened a book with nontraditional writing and a peculiar name. Victor Living—isn’t that eccentric?
Naturally, you will examine why the name Victor pairs with Living? Let me explain. I would like to ask you to consider it as a model of symbolic meanings. The name Victor means, ‘Winner, the defeater of doom.’ And I give credence to the remark ‘living’ as a sign of wishful optimism over millenniums for a dignified life of kindness, a courteous spirit, and prosperity for every person on Earth. You must admit, it sounds good. But, I didn't intend to make this name a banner for the big-headed idealist. My purpose is to release innovated symbolic logo-roots as an avenue to a diverse view of our coexistence. I feel that resistant effort could apply to the arduous life test. But, whatever comes up, I must endure critical assaults for one gracious goal: to earn your recognition. Also, I rely on people’s interest to share verities about us. And, when one day you begin to perform such ideas, it will produce a rigorous lash on me as an author. Even if someone pronounces that it won’t hold water, I will take it as a stimulus. The proposed form is only to provoke you into the conversation. Could you regard it as making an effort? I suppose, with a deepening contest of a book, you could answer yes. Yes, as approval when someone approaches it with not just enthusiasm, muse, and finding, but with accepted wisdom. Will you pay attention to the text when a creator wants to bring extra coloring to nipped, common things? I’m longing to make you feel that this author has a volcano of a heart and is inviting in the warm hail-fellow talking.
Let me clarify about Book One. The content here is divided into four parts:
The Philosophical Path offers to test the outflow of our modern morale from an external world throughout your qualities of view.
If you move through the Psychological Pathway, you find that your attitudes rely only on internal approval for every decision you make.
When you grasp knowing how the philosophy of personal development and psychology reacts to the outside world by self-expression, you are ready to gain a new outlook on the Political Path of the time you reside in.
Last, when your sedate look overcomes emotional vitality, you will unchain personal feelings linked only to you. But, whatever you think about yourself, the nature of your creation will pacify you. I call that a Lyrical Path.
I believe the endeavors of symbolical logo-roots with short stories will build your opinion about this novel as an art of literature. Let’s predict that these symbolical passages are going burn your conflicting sensation for asking, “Who is the inventor? What do those themes assembled as messages mean?”
After a concise page-by-page review, you may deduce, “Does that man just hide behind quirky speech habits of intermixed, non-rhyming poetry?” No, is my response. In today’s concept of writing, such arrangements are not traditional verses, tales, dramas, or lyrical flows. They underscore simple thought and extraordinary scenes of reality and come out as an exponential symbol. But as an author, I would like to pledge that not one story or episode placed inside is imagined. They are pure ventures of my and other people’s lives, gathered over an extensive period. It’s all to seize your interest.
That’s why such lives aways appear as narrations of grating incidents. I need them to support my picture of us as individuals who have feelings about our society. It would be the truth to say, they are my revelations for the listeners. Have they a right to exist? The answer comes only from you. By myself, I feel the genuine passion it comes—not empty handed and bringing charismatic discoveries. Even their survival becomes an issue; the counter will be only the reader’s interest.
In the latest reading, such logo-roots could appear as the natural logic of personalized reactions to our lives. However, they originated as symbolical, formula-root solutions to stand up as a fresh route. The ground of inspiration is, if any idea touches you and makes you think about it, my goal achieved. I have to state also, the symbolical logo-roots are designed like a talk between friends. But, let me clarify my wish again to raise the oldest philosophical question of who we are. I also want to ask why most of Earth’s population is not a blissful? Why are our common human social problems so incorrigible that no one ever changes anything? I will never understand this. I sense remarkable potential, even for a single person. We can amend things on the greatest of scales. Everything, my dear reader, rests only on our wish. Let’s assume that people will synthesize novelty ideas and stop catastrophic views of our civilization being disaster-prone. However, if you still want to converse about the form of symbolical logo-roots, I will agree that gathered contentions may bother you. Would you like to accept it as an art of intrigue? If you see it attracts influence, please compromise with an atypical offer. I’m inviting you to catch bonds among words and phrases that contact you, and only then, can we go for more themes. I’d also like to encourage you to consider a close to your heart logo-roots senses. It shows why they are arriving one from another as a profound relationship. Should we name them as questionable rationale? Yes, and I hope for your quick comprehension about the gravitation toward the words in these lines. Can you consider their acquisitive meanings to be an appraisal? Isn’t that an excellent occasion to fluster also your imagination? Let’s suppose the answer is yes. I trust this style will turn on the wits of the sharpest critics. They might dramatize the evaluation as being an untenable try. Some might even, in the same manner, put together funny, ordinary, or vulgar meanings and create a shameful combination. If so, it won’t disappoint me.
Now, I have to declare: “I’m Victor Living, and by unfeigned anticipation, I stand for these creations to deserve recognition as an art of literature.” So, let’s concede that the time of Victor Living has arrived as manifested! Please feel to contemplate and enjoy an irregular reading!
If we are mystified by how we learn from the imbrued past, we must discover what promises to be a phantom future.
Victor Living
Philosophical Path
1. The Figures of the One
I would like to ask that you rethink these phrases:
RULED by FIGURES of ONE
FINGERS of YOUR FATE
LARGER-THAN-LIFE SYMBOL
UNBLEMISHED GENUISES
CHANGES LONGED-for WHEN
and imagine a young intellectual reaction to academic publications about our history as a civilization.
Contradictions.
One young man, to a certain extent, chose a career as governor once he formed an understanding of legislation at the foremost level. Such a position required a solid background in law or economics and an excellent grasp of natural philosophy, civic duty, and plenty more than that. Curious enough, he developed a taste for descriptions about hard-hitting dictators of the muddled world. He liked that. Such trace examples of humanity battling destinies from a sharp rise to a terrible collapse appeared to him as an atypical devotion. Am I saying that reading about the barbarism of potentates created regret and disappointment in him? Yes. I noticed he was disturbed and disheartened and grunted like an old man. A certain hardness came as humiliation with every new fact he comprehended. As he only contemplated the terrible things occuring in various countries, many pains ran through his consciousness. And, after he gathered facts about the twentieth-century shootings of Ceausescu in Romania or news of the hanging of Saddam Hussein in Iraq or the horrific death of Gaddafi in Libya, his feelings became charged with a more desperate blow.
He was only twenty-five and several months before had graduated from university. He suspected that persistent systematization of summarizing articles could help him analyze historical grounds. But, it hurt him. The impact of proof overcame his gained skills to test things with no excitement. He couldn’t absorb chronological processes conducted only by the Ones.
He wouldn’t allow ages of a ruling by bumptious degenerates, and he found himself stumped by the question: Do you need advanced thinking to consider that the globe—to a large extent—belongs only to a few hundred of the wealthiest of families? Oh yes, they own the most important lands with thousands of minerals, governments with political and justice systems, and the most powerful media companies and global corporations. But, the most annoying truth is that they are much richer than the kings of the past and keep most of the world’s population in poverty by intent. That is why that newest thinker, as an active stony man, barrages himself with questions: Why do we continue to act in such mysterious, primitive ways? Why is our development always on the verge of self-sabotage? And there come more why's! However, his total non-acceptance of facts grew with every episodic plot. What also came from us? Do we feel the same when we review bloody chronicles from the archaic period? Are we sensing a jump in our blood pressure when we reach the solemnity of repeated hangings, shootings, and killings by the revolution for social changes? What do you think? Are there any predictions? Why don’t we all have “agreements” ending in battle? It’s like people have no other choice—only strict tendencies.
Well, let’s figure it out in more detail. If it breaks through, a vigorous king-ruler—his effrontery esteem, projected by elevation—remains in his province. When a new sovereign leader comes up, his copper-faced control over different territories makes for piles of victims, growing in geometrical sequence. Or, while neoteric unseen totalitarian comes up with blitz dictation over nations and regions, the terrestrial globe again becomes shorter for millions of regular families. “Why is that?” many youngsters should ask. “Are we sensing any scope to finish it?” Let’s allow those answers to energize the next generations. Only they can fly in different directions because they have a reason to ask, “Why is such a reality true, that a planet of brothers’ act like strangers to one another?” Is that a fresh marking of the latest authority? It sounds like princes vanished, but it’s easy to name today’s potentates without a crown, as a cloud over thousands of lives. Why do hospitable neighbors continue to kill each other? Is that again about coercive domination? Why do heart-to-heart friends forsake each other? Is that about the efficacy of furthering, for instance, the high-tech, hazy empire? Are we condemned to prolong such a gloomy scroll? When we learn about humanity’s limits, our perception outlasts that a person infected with an idiotic idea spreads it upon the heedless majority. But, when routines directed by the newest saline-appalling autocrats push you, what you do? What is your reflection on it? Are you dividing norms as only white and dark? Will you endure commands if they suggest there will be no gray, pink, sky-blue, or yellowish pigment colors in your life? Let’s trust you respond only with no and assume you stand only for self-withdraw. Isn’t it an altering conciliation to live by someone else’s regulation? So, as an envoy, keep a distance from the chief and discover how to oppose him. And, if you make no excuses and act as quickly as the youngest do, you will never regret trying. Who knows? Maybe it’s you, the reader of these words, who will raise as a new voice.
I recall one drunken man, in front of an elegant Manhattan restaurant. He yelled, “Would you agree your life is only an average step to a better civilization?” The acrimony of such a belief could aggravate anyone, but he was our contemporary screamer and not an alien messenger. Even though he looked insecure, he was right in a rhetorical and practical sense. Cool? Yes. We live in constant hurry and often don’t pay attention to street speakers. However, optimism can only breed when young men dig deeper into history to find great examples of restored hope. Will you concur that many titans of profound thinking have proven our civilization as superb for a decent life? Oh, yes, even the greatest brains still fail. Will the human mind ever be able to program itself to stay without orders from the Figure of the One? Would you like to imagine a world without cruel commanders? But, to take part in the invention of change, I would like to ask that you pass through numerous motivations. Let’s call the Energized Intellectual Shells into imagination. If you see it sparks your innovative ideas, let’s suppose it’s a first step in adjusting something better for our lives. I’d also like to ask that you take part in the philosophical tryout and move your mind’s eye and body through time and space (notice here it’s not a social setting, but nature) and stand in front of a huge garden of flowering cherries. Next, please open your eyes and take a careful look at each flower, at each leaflet, at every twig on the trees, and consider this entire place filled with blossoming buds, this oasis, and think:
All people are born freedom-loving and compassionate.
Whatever comes, people don't have to obey outrage for the Ones, but obstruct it.
We hold non-acceptance for human's humiliation.
We don't pay attention to the Ones’ promises as payable perspectives because we're starting the novel era of not being
RULED by FIGURES of ONE and choose to stop it.
So, after such a trial trip, if you don’t mind, send me your thoughts and how you feel, and let’s run our conversation further. When I ask about the motives of the Central Figures of our lives, I’m relying on elders. With a full heart of pain, they can beg you to say, yes. It’s like an imprint in our heads. We are always under the command of unconscientious people. People don’t like to confess to themselves. Do you realize there’s no sign of our civilization arriving at welfare yet? Oh, you can object that only technology speed ups and witnesses tremendous achievement. I can’t disagree with that, but my counterevidence is global unemployment and poverty that grows faster every day. But can I, without blaming the concentration of economic power in a few hands, recommend you make authentic speculation about the Figures of One as I recite an incredible story emerged from my father?
It happened two days before my twelfth birthday. Due to my mentality, I was already a teenager. That’s why my memory is alive with details of the conversation. Together, my father and watched an animated cartoon. It was about a dragon that lived on the peak of a mountain in an unassailable fortress. For years, the beast demanded sixteen girls, the age of sixteen, from a neighboring village. The villagers bore a painful toll. They wanted to live in peace. The parents suffered tremendous grief to give their children to the deformed hands of the giant. They looked for a permanent hero to overthrow their wrongdoer. A long time after, the heroes announced the dragon’s killing and said the villagers could forget their obligation. The monster appeared again, cheesed-off, and this time, demanded a bigger price. One day, the respected elders of the parish sent another figh
ter, a cunning boy. The fellow must have watched how the last battle finished and knew what to expect. So, after a hero announced that the dragon had been ruined, a spy-boy told the villagers the entire story:
“I don’t know why, but the hero beheaded the dragon by sword only inside the castle. And in a moment, the winner’s curiosity turned from the corpse to the gate ahead. From slots around the frame of the gate came lightning—intense starry rays. The brave man rushed forward, and with both hands, pulled the doors toward himself. When he stepped inside, his mind became dazed. There were vast piles of hidden jewels. Golden ducats, many diamond rings, beading, earrings and bracelets, trimmed jugs, candlesticks, and chests with the beautiful glimmer of precious stones everywhere.
‘Wow! It’s a treasure room. Is it from the villagers?’ the hero whispered in amazement. But, when he strode toward the chamber, his mind clouded. The hero stepped on golden things and golden sand. His legs grew bigger and wider, then became the terrible shanks of the dragon. The eyes of the hero rounded. But, when he picked up a brilliant trimmed, inlaid vase, both hands swelled and turned into the ugly claws of the dragon. A few seconds later, his entire body transformed into the monstrous animal, and he roared like a hungry, raving predator. It terrified me enough to hurry far away.” After the TV shoe finished, I waited a minute.
“Dad, I can’t understand why the hero shape-shifted into the monster,” I asked, overcome by the dramatic impression of the legend.
“Oh, I’m glad you asked such a question,” my father answered. “But that Chinese parable is ancient. History says about a few thousand years.”
“What?” I reacted with excessive emotion, as I had only estimated perhaps a few hundred years.