creative project

It's a beautiful day out, you know. I think it's best to start with that. It's a beautiful day. At least there's that. It's a beautiful day, and you, like many others are stuck carrying the weight of the world on your heart. Every day, you pass by so much suffering, always wondering what might happen if you reached out your arm and tried to stop it. Part of you feels that if you just did that, it would all end. You then remember that the person walking in front of you and the person walking behind you probably wonder the same thing. You now wonder how many other people have too. [[Look to the sky]] [[Look to the ground]]

As you already knew, it's a beautiful day. It's what, maybe 60 degrees out? There's a breeze too, it's kind to you. You figure some things must be, at least. There's a bird. You're not sure what kind. You don't know many kinds of birds anyways. Let's just say it's a crow. The crow flies overhead, away from the rising sun. You wonder if it knows what's going on beneath it. Of course, it doesn't. It wouldn't care, even if it did. It just gets to fly away from anything it doesn't like. It doesn't care. It's mocking you. You wonder if this is how it feels to be up in the ivory tower that you've never seen. You hate the people who get to experience that feeling every day. You hate the crow. [[Attack the crow]] [[Keep going]]

Oh, you've made yourself sad again. How about that? Those ants walking down through the cracks, they have no idea what's going on up here. They don't care. Their order feels natural to them. They don't look at the horizon and wonder what's out there. They don't look close their eyes to think about what could have been. An ant is happy living its simple life. You're treated like an ant. You've even been called an ant. If only you could think like an ant too. [[Keep going]] [[Step on an ant]]

No need to overthink things. No need. You continue on. That's enough thinking for the day Where are you headed again? Oh right. Work. Just like every day. Now is not the time to decide you don't like it. You've been over this. You despise it. You despise all of this. You remember when you were young, your grandmother told you that this is the kind of future she read about in dystopian novels. The kind of future she almost feared, but felt could never really happen. That was one of the last times you saw her. But let's not dwell on that! You have work to do. [[Go to work]] [[Don't go to work]]

Take that. You get a twinge of satisfaction. Well, it's not like the ant cared. It was going to live a miserable life anyways, even if it didn't have the capacity to know it. You're doing it a favor, aren't you. Aren't you? No. If ants had a concept of justice, this wouldn't be it, you think. Maybe the ant had feelings and was happy and didn't want to die and- ...........You're thinking too much again. It was an ant. People step on ants all the time [[Carry on->Keep going]]

You take the largest rock you can see, and chuck it at the oblivious bird. You miss. This was a stupid idea. A man in front of you turns and gives you a funny look. You pretend you didn't throw that rock. The crow didn't even notice it. You think this would make for a splendid metaphor. Before you take a moment to consider that metaphor, you start thinking about what would have happened if you didn't miss. The crow would have been killed or gravely injured. And you would have stared at its still body, wondering why you did this. You would have felt guilty. Actually, you already feel a little guilty anyways. So spiteful. [[Carry On->Keep going]]

No point in resisting it, for now at least. One day. You go to work. It's a factory job. How cliche. It smells strongly of chemicals, but you've been used to it for a while. You don't even know what you're making in there, it's just parts for "something important." That's what you're told anyways. You rarely talk to your coworkers. They don't seem to be craving conversation either. There's one you occassionally chat with, though. She's rude and sarcastic but seems to be an optimist, moreso than you anyways. You tell her about how you think the government and all of society, is bullshit. She always agrees, but she cuts off the conversation before it gets too intense. You can't really blame her. You had one of those conversations with her yesterday. Today, she gives you a slight smile but says nothing. It's a bit of a ritual you share. It calms you down a bit, but you're still angry. Not at her, but at everything. You have another uneventful day. It's not worth any detail. [[Go home]]

Yeah, right. You consider this every day, but you still go to work [[Go to work]]

It's about 6:30 PM. You can tell by the massive clocktower that covers you in its shadow as you leave. It makes you feel small, as most things do. The walk home is the same every day. You can't remember the last time something interesting happened on this walk. That's a lie, actually. You've been mugged a few times. You've tripped on the sidewalk. You've helped a little boy find his lost toy. In the spring, you've sniffed flowers. In the summer you've picked a strawberry or two, in the fall you've crushed the leaves you didn't like and took home the ones that were just the right shade of red. In the winter you've inspected the snowflakes on your sleeve, just in case two of them looked alike. Today, however, seems to be about average. [[Or not]]

A stray cat. You haven't seen one of those in a while. You like the stray cats in this part of town. They aren't above everything, and they aren't too tiny to notice the world around them. They're on about the same level as you. The cat looks up at you expectantly. Your eyes soften a little as you meet its gaze. At this moment, you remember that you saved a little bit of milk from your lunch "break." You've learned to take advantage of those 5 minutes so you could find your way over to the closest market as fast as possible. The cat licks its lips [[Give the cat some milk]]

Might as well. There's enough suffering in the world already, might as well do something small. It comes at little cost from you anyways. You wonder how many people have walked past this cat without giving it a second thought. It must have been hundereds of people, but you must have been the first one to feed it. There must be something special about you. "Special." You take that word and hold it close to you. You can rarely think about that word in a society like this. Nobody can be special. But you're not so sure about that these days. You'll think about this more later. [[Continue->sunset1]]

How fitting. The sunset today is beautiful. The warm glow of the sun, the cotton candy clouds, the patient dark blue reaching from behind. This sunset is just for you, you feel. It's saying "you did well today." It's nice to get some kind of appreciation. Again, you feel special. You're probably the only person staring up at the sky right now. No, No. But you're probably the only that really gets it. [[Home]]

You're home now. Well, home by the most basic definition. The walls are bare, and the floor is nearly empty. But you figure this is the closest anything will be to home. You sigh. Another long day. But that's okay. You're special. You'll get out eventually. You're a good person. A great one, even. [[Sleep]]

You fall asleep with thoughts of heroism. You can feel it in your veins. There must be something special about you. Tomorrow, you feel, will be important. But tonight, you need your rest. [[Dream]]

... .. ....... ............ . .. ......................... .......... ..... You dream something majestic. But you forget what it was. Maybe you will remember later. [[Awaken]]

You don't feel too well rested. It's okay, though. You rarely do. Despite this, however, you shoot straight out of bed. You force yourself to utilize the energy you lack. Today's the day. For what, you don't know. [[Work]]

Another day at work, just like any other. Except it's not. You can feel it. Today, the coworker you sometimes talk to isn't there. This is the first time you can remember that this has happened. You ask another coworker where she is, and he tells you that he saw her this morning, before you arrived. He said she looked nervous about something. You have a bad feeling about it. A few more hours of your routine. Your bad feeling only gets worse. But today, you feel like you can summon your courage. But for now, you think you should wait a little longer. [[Summon your patience->Return]]

The day is nearly over and you haven't done anything yet. Your anxiety is not quelled. You can feel a bead of sweat rolling down your face. You need to do something today. You feel like you almost know what that thing might be, but you aren't sure yet. Your train of thought is interrupted. Your coworker is back. She's walking back to her old spot from a side of the room you've never considered before. She has a far off look in her eyes. Her hair is just slightly out of place, and her uniform seems to not fit as well as it did before. She returns to her spot beside you, and you slowly part your lips to speak and- "Don't talk to me anymore. The things I've said to you were foolish and immature. Don't think about it anymore." Her usually spirited speech is now monotone and dull. Before you can gather enough thoughts to respond, she's already looking back down at her work. You can't bring yourself to say a word, and you decide to process your thoughts in silence. Something happened, you can gather that. She was punished for something. Maybe she decided not to work this morning. Maybe she stirred something up, or caused some chaos. And whatever happened to her took the soul out of her eyes, and killed her in some way. Your face twiches only slightly as you try to hold back a grin. This is it, right? The perfect time to take some kind of action. You're special. You're a hero. Whatever broke her won't break you. Maybe you can save her, maybe you could save everyone! [[It's time]]

You stand up straight with a start. You silence your mind for once. Thoughts of hesitation will only deter you now. You begin to walk away from your spot, as a few coworkers watch with an almost morbid curiosity. Your friend looks up too. For just a moment, you swear you can see her give you a concerned look, but her head snaps back down to what she was doing before you can be sure. You make your way over to the dark, unfamiliar corner of the room. Before you is a normal sized door. It looks massive to you though, or at least feels massive. You glance back over your shoulder. One coworker is grimacing at you and another is frantically waving you back. They're just like sheep to you. They're terrified of the wolf they know is there, but unwilling, or perhaps unable to do anything about it. That's okay though. This is your time to shine as a noble guard dog, isn't it? [[Open the door]] [[Don't open the door]]

The door is surprisingly unlocked. A shiver runs down your spine. It's almost like someone was waiting for you to come and open it. The room is bright. It's hurting your eyes just a little. There is another doorway straight across from you. The walls are mostly empty, save for some framed pictures of important ruling figures you don't care to name. It hits you again that this place you work at is "important." This city, this country doesn't care for you, but it cares for this factory. You know that it's not even a factory in many eyes, you just happen to be stuck at the bottom with now way up. You know something "important" is happening here, and you know that up on the levels you have not yet dared to reach, there are "important" people. They're still sheep though, no matter how special they think they are. [[You keep going]] [[You turn back]]

No. No, not today. You can't. It's not like anything you do is going to make a difference. You could suffer, and even if you turn out fine in the end it doesn't matter. You were an idiot to think you should do anything about this. And you don't care. You could probably find a way to be satisfied. And as for everyone else? They're sheep. They're sheep and you aren't. You're special, aren't you? Even that coworker you talk to. She's a sheep too. You go back to your spot. You don't care enough to be embarassed. It's enough knowing you're special. [[A change of perspective]]

You glance up from your work one last time. Your coworker, the one you used to talk to sometimes. They're walking back from the big door you just came out of. They didn't even have the courage to open it..? You know what would have happened if they opened it. They would have been punished just like you were, and they probably wouldn't have been able to handle it. As for yourself? Well, maybe handling it wasn't the right word. You said what you had to. You're not talking to that coworker again. You figure you'll miss that. But it's okay. You don't need to care about it. They're all blind. They're all sheep. Even that coworker friend of yours, they too are oblivious to the real nature of the world. They showed that when they walked away in fear from the door. They're a coward, and you're not. They're not special, but you are. One in any number of billions. A hero, even? Sure, a hero. You'll be okay. You can rest easy knowing that nobody else will be going to bed thinking the same thing as you. You're special. "Special." You take that word and hold it close to you. You can rarely think about that word in a society like this. Nobody can be special. But you're not so sure about that these days. You'll think about this more later. ~The End~

Nothing for you in here. You keep going through the doorway and into a dark hallway. You don't know how long it takes, but eventually you reach a flight of stairs. When you finally reach the top, you're a little out of breath. There's another door. [[You open it]]

You glance up from your work one last time. Your coworker, the one you used to talk to sometimes. They're walking back from the big door you just came out of. They didn't even have the courage to stay in there..? You know what would have happened if they stayed, though. They would have been punished just like you were, and they probably wouldn't have been able to handle it. As for yourself? Well, maybe handling it wasn't the right word. You said what you had to. You're not talking to that coworker again. You figure you'll miss that. But it's okay. You don't need to care about it. They're all blind. They're all sheep. Even that coworker friend of yours, they too are oblivious to the real nature of the world. They showed that when they walked away in fear from the door. They're a coward, and you're not. They're not special, but you are. One in any number of billions. A hero, even? Sure, a hero. You'll be okay. You can rest easy knowing that nobody else will be going to bed thinking the same thing as you. You're special. "Special." You take that word and hold it close to you. You can rarely think about that word in a society like this. Nobody can be special. But you're not so sure about that these days. You'll think about this more later. ~The End~

It's an office. It's the most finely decorated office you've ever seen in your life. The intricutely woven carpet, the paintings on the wall framed in gold, the dark wood bookshelves housing more books than you've ever seen in one place before. But most importantly, there's a desk, with a man sitting in a large leather chair behind it. He's asleep. You recognize this man. It hits you that this place may be more "important" than you thought. This man is the secretary for your president. Well, that's what he calls himself in the public eye, but from your observations, he's the one pulling the strings and making decisions. Even in his sleep, he's wearing a smug grin. You despise him. You despise all that he stands for. You notice something, now that you look at the desk A few fancily decorated papers. [[Inspect papers]]

These papers. The more you look at them, the more you understand that these papers are the physical proof of your suffering. All the structures of this society you were never directly aware of but you could always tell existed. All the details of your oppression. And at the very bottom, a strange condition. "He who holds these papers has a free reign over the structure of the world. He need not say a word, the paper will automatically sync to the holder's deepest desires. Should multiple people own the paper, it shall sync to a theoretical compromise between all desires. The holders do not have to all be physically touching the paper, but the ownership must flow freely between all owners, keeping them all on an equal level. No holder may place himself above or below another holder, or it will lose effect." You can't completely comprehend those words. You think you have a decent idea of the technical functions, but the concept as a whole confuses you. [[Wait..]]

You're suddenly startled. The man at the desk stirs and opens his eyes. Your pupils shrink and you begin to sweat. "Ah" His voice is unsettlingly calm. "Another one of you. From the basement. A girl from there came up here this morning, full of passion and conviction. I see that same look in your eyes that she had." You take a cautious step backwards, hoping he won't notice. He continues. "I'm assuming you didn't know that every other person down there has come up here before. Each time, they came alone. Each time, they left, somehow more alone than before. They were all punished, that girl included." Your eyes widen. All those people? All those sheep at come up here on their own before? "But you are the last one of them to come here. And after all of this, I've grown bored. So I think I'm going to try something new." [[Something new]]

"You've seen the condition of those papers, haven't you? You know it's where my power lies. I've shaped the world the way I wanted to. I'm the centerpeice of everything here. All these sheep, and me, the noble guard dog. You see, I'm a hero." Your blood starts to run cold. You try to give a response but before you can open your mouth he continues. "As I said, though. I want to try something new. I'm curious to see what desires you have deep in your soul. If I have to die to see it, I don't care" Your face is still, but you have never been more furious. This is nonsense. [["So take these papers, they're yours."]]

He hands you the papers. Your hands shake harder than before. "Now, show me who you are. If you truly aren't a sheep, a part of the masses, show me now. Who are you?" Who are you? [[A hero. A guard dog]] [[A common person. A sheep]]

Your fingers curl around the ends of the paper. You stare at them intently and attempt to project your will onto them. Slowly, the words on the page start to fade, and after they're gone, new words start to appear. Structures built around goals you didn't know you had. The man before you starts to choke on the air, and as his face starts to turn blue you are struck with a sick sense of satisfaction. You have no intention of stopping this. This is it, your ultimate moment as a hero. That man was another sheep. He thought he understood the world better than you did, but of course he was wrong. All the people who have come before you were wrong too. They would have done well to stay in their place. But you were different. Reality begins to shift around you. You are temporarily blinded by the bright lights ushering in the reconstruction of the world. ... ... ... When you regain your sight, you notice that the room is different. The man is gone. The carpet is now your favorite color. A portrait of you is framed on the wall. Your drab uniform is replaced by a snug suit and tie. The smell of chemicals remains. The air of suffering remains. Your deepest desires have been fufilled. You're special. You're the centerpiece of the world now. The man you despised and presumably his allies are gone now. You're a hero. [[The door opens once again]]

Through your fear, you manage a soft smile. You see now, don't you? All the "sheep" had tried the same thing as you. Everyone has watched the sunset and thought "this was made for me." Everyone has envied the freedom of the birds above them and the bliss of the ants below them. Everyone has done a good deed and thought that the universe would owe them for it. Every "sheep" and every "guard dog" and everyone else too. You wonder what desires the paper would find in you. A desire for revenge? A desire to be finally seen by the world as special? The ability to play the role of judge, jury, and executioner. The roles you somehow think you alone deserve. But you were wrong. You rip the papers in half. Reality begins to change around you and you don't know what's next. You can only hope it will be different this time. ~The end~

The door to *your* office opens. A woman walks in. She's familiar to you. She's full of conviction and as she begins to speak, her rude tone brings back memories. She knows your name but seems to have no more than a superficial recognition of you. It doesn't matter anymore. She's just another sheep to you. You already know she's weak. She's not special. As a hero, it's your job to punish her. And so you do. That night, you watch the sunset from your own ivory tower. You watch the ants beneath you, be they insect or otherwise. You watch the birds and you understand them now. You remind yourself that this sunset is for you. You're special, and now everyone will see. [[Wake up]]

Oh. What a dreadful dream. Something about some kind of dystopian society? The kind of thing you'd read in some boring novel. You remember doing something awful, though. Some kind of downward spiral. You're glad you wouldn't do that in real life. This is just a normal place with normal people. Maybe a normal person would spiral like that, and be caught up in their own character. You wouldn't though. Not a special person like you. ~The end~