I dwell between the heavens and the subterranean earth, pontificating the nature of reality and the conservative laws of the universe. Trenched in thought, a hole has been carved in my heart, hallowing deeper and deeper, removing any empathetic node I may have conjured in the past. Now the hole is spread throughout the body, like a cancer, eroding the pillars of my structured foundation. I lay in the soil of Mother Earth, dragging my belly like a worm, my former bipedal state atrophying into an invertebrate. In pursuit of the answers, I have traded my soul, I have chosen to deal in a world of infinite games, only losing when my flesh has withered away like trash. Trapped with a world of knowledge but without a world to partake in.
In darkness, when the eyes grow heavy, I still dream…
Still dreaming, conjuring allusions of living amongst the pantheon of champions, the ceremony of the heavenly and the metaphysical. The arena of the righteous and the renegade frontiersman. Kneeling at the altar from the pains of many adventures, humbling the ego from man’s narcissism. An intangible state, far from the reaches of the underground man. It is only but a dream, a phantom, a shadow of a reality I secretly want. Figments dancing before me, obscured and contorted, like the shadows of Plato’s cave.
I dream of being the hero that the civility looks upon, a beacon of stability and righteousness. To take on the dragons, demons, and catastrophes at face value and enter the flames of adventure. But alas, I am a coward, a rat that scurries underneath waiting for the crumbs of the surface so I may feast. A creature that spreads disease and fear, a nuisance rather than a predator.
As the uninitiated, I, the intellectual subterranean man, inhabit in the far depths below the earth’s mantle. Even further than the corporeal soils. Those that flesh and physical matter play. In my cavern, stuck with resentment, for I dream of play and light. I pray for a celestial wind to updraft my bones and to carry me to the ancient state of Godliness. To rise above and find order in my dilapidated house. Rid of the rot, the deadwood covered in termites, harvesting upon my mistakes as an incompetent carpenter. I have become the underground man.
A spectating player.
Toil on my knowledge, toil on my aches, for the new world brings pains of uncertainty. Stuck in my litigation of how matter should be, should act, should be punished. But it is I who is punished, it is I whose soul diminishes, like a white dwarf, only witnessing light from a life once lived. Now a dense piece of rock, collapsing the very mass it was conceived.
Time has morphed my vision, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, a normality of nothingness, for it is all I see. Becoming blind, but not from disease but rather from convenience and adaptation. Fumbling my way through the catacombs, feeling the familiar stones and hardened soil beneath my feet. Directionless I go forth into the abyss, moving fast towards an absolute destruction of my Alma. Listening to the vibrating echoes of the surface, becoming more distorted as I further deeper and deeper.
A crack of light.
From time to time, the heavens answer, or rather they call upon me for action, but in my blind state I cannot see, but I can feel the light.
As the earth shuffles and stretches, through the natural processes, a sliver of rock readjusts, causing a crack. A streak of light penetrates before me. The cones of my eyes sharpen for they are not used to brightness. Looking away, for the light is piercing and painful. In a momentary lapse of courage, I gaze through the opening. The new light burning and piercing my retinas. I turn away and stare towards the abyss. The abyss is cold but welcoming, it is because the coldness is familiar. It is because my eyes have adjusted. The path towards destruction is easy, it is because it is painless, a slow freeze towards death. The impasse of morality heeds further down. The choice for adventure lies in the courage to gaze upon the light and seek it. The crossroads toward salvation lies before me.
Beauty is terrifying, it overwhelms me. The beauty of God is too much for a blind mole like me. This is the great leap, to give yourself to the hands of the creator. Faith is an act of courage; it is to turn back and begin the climb to the surface. To stumble your way towards a life worth living. Marching to the terranean level is a difficult climb, a climb that tests your courage. This is how you will stand shoulder to shoulder in the pantheon of champions, to become the hero. To feel the soft soil, smell the blooming foliage, and touch the tree of life.
Reaching the surface seems like an impossibility, for the path is dark and difficult. The subterranean man may never reach the light, but the first step is the most crucial. It means that the man can begin to oriented himself towards the good, towards the heavens. Not a young sprite anymore, but an old feeble man full of resentment. The body breaking, the knees weakening, head too heavy to stand upright, the man must forgo the journey. True hell is dying without a cause, to wither without meaning. All one must do is to dig past the physical and enter the metaphysical, only then can courage be found. The body may decay, but the soul will thrive.
For now, the underground man toils and falters still. Constantly turning to face the ether, and the ether singing a welcoming tune, enchanting like the muses of Homer’s tale. Enticing to sprint towards the abyss. Realizing that the path towards the heavens is an imaginable, difficult journey, but the underground man must endure. Like the ancient tale of Sisyphus, to carry a boulder up a hill for eternity just to watch it roll down every time. One must be content with the journey, that is existence, that is life. To endure, to persevere, to whether the storm and preserve your hope, your faith. The flesh may rip, decay, and weather away like a stone, but you will be remembered as a champion, to stand before the pantheon and be a symbol of triumph. All we can hope is that we kneel before the altar, legs broken from the adventure, and be the hero of our own story.
