Musing

It feels like our world is falling apart, especially in the western hemisphere. We are struggling to find our balance as it tears at the seams. But we can't underestimate this system, which was designed for survival and will not go down without a fight. These thoughts back then like now are not allowed during the day, but I can't help but think about them. It puts me at risk of detection, but I'm used to that by now. Losing credibility was nothing new for me; I knew then I should take it seriously or face even worse consequences.

The night before, I had lost control, which could get me into trouble if there was any evidence. I had mastered staying unnoticed. But there was always a chance someone could be watching, so I knew even then that I must avoid causing any commotion on the streets.

I was awake and ready to start my day, even though sleeping in cost me some credit. I'd have to work extra hard to earn it back, but I had a few tricks up my sleeve.

She was not happy with me; I could tell by her intense surveillance of my every move and subtle changes in my appearance. But I knew I must remain composed to avoid being fully detected or questioned again. The elders could wait; my priority was staying under their radar.

 

I made my way to the coffee machine, anticipating the disapproving expression and lecture that would surely follow. I knew this was probably my last warning before facing consequences for my actions. But I couldn't help but smirk at her frustration; it was almost enjoyable to see her struggle to get through to me. She never got angry, but her lack of emotion made her even more dangerous in these situations.

 

I reminded myself to be cautious, as she had warned me before. We stood in tense silence, I could see that she was aware of me analysing her, just as she was me. Both wondered who was reading whom in that situation. After a moment, we retreated to our respective rooms to analyse what had happened. Was it crossing a line? The tension hung heavily between us, not just personally but also the feeling of invasion, of being observed. What struck me was that she seemed just as startled by it as I was. This gave me insight into the gaps in their defences.

But whether we crossed a line, I took advantage of the opportunity to relax on my bed with my coffee and toast, scrolling through news updates until she came back to her senses.

Growing up in a world of manipulation and control, where our behaviours are restricted and information is suppressed, and fear is used as a tool for compliance, we learn how to adapt and survive. These were skills that their predictive models failed to anticipate - the ability to think critically and use humour to disrupt their analytical frameworks are innately human.

They utilise guilt and shame to keep us from reaching our true potential, making us believe that our lack of productivity or growth is our fault. Our desires are held out of reach, and we fear the consequences of obtaining what we truly need. We are kept at bay by the wolves at the door, afraid of facing what lies on the other side. Even without eyes on the handle, taking a step towards it means exposing ourselves to their interrogations. They would willingly sacrifice one of us as a lesson for the rest, exploiting any perceived weaknesses for all to see so that fear takes hold. They make friends with the shadows they operate in so that we turn towards their promised light of salvation.

Being born into this life, you have two options: to conform and become absorbed or to resist and seek a way out. I had always been on the outskirts, never fully accepting their beliefs and constantly distancing myself from the herd. Their trained dogs kept us in line, but I learned to manipulate them and deflect attention as my only defence.

 

My tactics were working I thought, slowly loosening their grip on me, but they would still try to regain control. When the observer becomes the observed, it unsettles them and forces them to recalibrate. So, she retreated into her room. Finding small pleasures in these small victories, I knew I had to keep getting smarter and finding new ways to remain unseen without my counterintelligence becoming too obvious.

The control of behaviour was reflected in their control of information. Within that information, I knew there were secrets they didn't want us to know – secrets that could lead us to freedom of mind. My one ambition was to educate myself on everything they didn't want me to see, hear, or experience.

 

But educating my fellow flock members on the danger of our shepherd's ulterior motives – driving us to slaughter while promising paradise – was impossible. The wolves at the door would see to that. Speaking out against conformity was considered apostasy, and simply listening was the second greatest sin. By limiting our language and controlling the discourse, they ensured no one would question their authority. So, we had to be vigilant for any wolves in sheep's clothing among us, ready to betray us at any moment.

Born into this life, we have two options: conform and become absorbed, or resist and seek a way out risking the consequences. I have always been on the outskirts, never fully accepting their beliefs and constantly distancing myself from the herd. I learned to manipulate their trained dogs and deflect attention as a defence.

In the silence, we suffered - a torture only those like me could truly understand. Our siblings beside us shared our torment in secret glances growing up. Even after escaping, we were still bound by their grasp. But the hope that our awareness could reach someone else and give them the chance to break free would drive us to keep trying. In coded language, we communicated even when we were supposedly free - a reminder that their control never truly leaves us. But we hold onto the hope that our efforts will one day lead to true freedom.

 

Don't worry, my dear siblings and those who still could define yourselves differently. Embrace your true desires instead of allowing others to suppress you. As this daydream ended, I reminded myself that I must strategize for my survival as they plan their next move; perhaps she will release me from her grip, or perhaps she will only tighten it further. Yet, I see through their facade - when the observer becomes observed, they too become fearful. It's a moment of relief knowing they are aware of my growing awareness, but it doesn't stop my mind from racing with different scenarios and anticipating their reactions. I am quick on my feet in the moment, but when their defences are heightened and deceptions abound, it becomes much more difficult. The abstract language was the key.

The incessant voices in my head gnawed at every moment, making me feel trapped and suffocated. These thoughts have been programmed into me since birth. I desperately yearned to break free from this endless cycle that drains any joy from my life. But it's not as simple as it seems, breaking free feels like an impossible feat. As the spiral continued downward, dread and guilt consumed me. I questioned whether she went into her room to give these triggers time to activate. Did she know that with a click of a button, the wheel of control would start spinning at this exact moment? And my illusion of autonomy would feel like nothing more than a fabrication they created for me.

 

Paranoia took over my mind, bringing along doubts and feelings of shame. These emotions slowly consumed me, leaving me feeling hollow and isolated with my inner demons. I realize that this is a trap I have fallen into even today, one that was set long before I was even born. Giving in to these thoughts has turned them into powerful feelings that trigger a chemical reaction of guilt within me. Even when I am depleted and running on empty, my receptors continue to scream for more, and I give in by feeding them more anguish while destroying my mental well-being. If only there was a way to find the root cause, perhaps I could break free from this never-ending spiral. But simply stopping the thought is not enough; it becomes a constant battle between the conflicting voices in my head, each fighting for their agenda instead of worrying about my overall health.

The ominous black mirror serves as a constant reminder of my shortcomings, where I am failing to meet expectations and falling behind. It serves as a constant reminder of how much of a disappointment I am, and how relentlessly they try to correct me. Not to make me perfect - they know that is impossible - but just so I won't be so determined to keep succumbing to my weaknesses.

 

Even if I were able to break free fully from its control, there will always be others ready to exploit and manipulate my vulnerable, programmed mind for their gain. And so, the warnings of stepping outside society's boundaries become self-fulfilling prophecies because we are only taught how to survive in this world with our vulnerabilities exposed, which others will use against us for their benefit.

And here I am, stuck in limbo - it feels more like purgatory than hell. I wondered what she is thinking now. Where will all this lead? These thoughts consumed me completely, even now after my so-called freedom.

 

short stories and prose from Sleepless Dystopian