The auditorium was vast, filled with hundreds of dark red-leathered seats spread throughout its entirety and a humongous wooden stage at the end of it, in the back of which a dark, red curtain was hiding the backstage of this world. The room was dimly lit and every sit had an occupant, stretching from young to old, men and women whom were talking among each other with great ease and light-heartedness about everyday activities, accomplishments and successes. Their speech was not loud and the aura felt easy and relaxing with an aftertaste of great ignorance and denial.
None of them knew why they were there, they were all anticipating a show…was it a single person, a band, a musical performance, a drama, an opera? None of them knew the answer but they all anticipated a spectacle, something reflecting the atmosphere of the room; light-hearted, relaxing and entertaining.
The curtain slightly moved and it captured the attention of everyone, dropping the auditorium into a dead silence, filled with anticipation and an undeniable sense of dread, as if the apparition might endanger the lives of those watching. To some extent, they were right to fear.
Truly, the fears were partly justified, because the person who walked on stage seemed like an apparition; part angel, part demon, black and white in colour and in mirror image, split down the middle. Dressed in a long coat that stretched to his knees, the man was the definition of duality. The left side of the coat was completely white, the right one pitch black. The trousers were in reverse order, the right leg was white and the left one black with fine shoes in mirror image colours. The attire was not the only thing which was tinted in such a way… so was the skin. The right hand was white with black fingernails and black veins which were pushing out beneath the skin, the other hand in opposite colouring.
The most striking thing about this man was his face. Mixture of black in white, going straight down the middle and what scared everyone the most was the fact that it seemed like this wasn't makeup. The right side of the face was white with half of the lips black, the whites of the eyes black, so were the eyelashes and eyebrows and all the wrinkles he made by every facial expression. The hair on the right half was black and everything was perfectly mirror imaged on the left side (so were the wrinkles; the wrinkles on the black half were white which was the biggest indicator that this wasn’t a mask or a façade).
He walked with a slight hunchback which was barely noticeable but not invisible, the eyes were menacing both because of their unique colouring but also for their coldness and vivid rationality. Combined with this was a permanent and perpetual smile which if you looked at it without noticing the eyes would seem a warm and comforting smile but in combination with the entirety of the face and posture seemed frightening and uncomfortable.
He walked to the front of the stage, calmly gazing the vast audience for what seemed an eternity but in fact was only a minute. The auditorium was so silent you could hear the echo of the man’s breath. Finally he moved, reaching into his right pocket and pulling out a white cigarette box, taking out one white cigarette. He lit it with a black lighter which produced pitch black fire, inhaled and then exhaled an angelically white smoke which quickly lifted to the roof of the auditorium.
“For what seems the day
Might be the night,
Your agonizing dread
Another’s pure delight,
Walking in shadows
Convinced to be in the light,
What you perceive to be the darkest Black
Might be the purest White.”
The voice was slightly raspy and deep, a strong baritone which echoed in the entire room. Just like everything about him, the voice held a dual nature; soothing and attractive but also menacing and terrifying. He took another smoke of the cigarette and continued to gaze into the public. There was an intense illusion happening, an undeniable feeling everyone felt but no one would admit; although he might be facing away from you, it would seem that every word and every gesture was intended solely for you and no one else. He looked into no one’s eyes but everyone felt his secondary stare (every member would swear to this) was intended for them and the entire spectacle was a lesson for them in particular. This filled the auditorium with a heavy feeling of guilt and shame but it felt distant, because it balanced out by the fact the man seemed harmless and, in fact, protective and good-willed, here to teach and help.
The man knew this very well, knew the reaction that he induced and was fully aware what the following talk would do to them all. That’s what he was there for, that’s why he is here. He took a few steps to his right, every step echoing with the sound of a giant sledgehammer hitting a brick wall, but followed by the feeling of relief and peace. Everything was dual about this man.
“Forgive them, Father, for they don’t know themselves. I am constantly amazed by the level of acceptance you have for the fog that engulfs your life and how falsely appreciative of it you are. Ignorance may be bliss from a certain perspective, but most of you take that much further and make it gospel. The Gospel of Ignorance.”
He sarcastically smirked but it was not a smile of cynicism, it was one of disappointment and frustration. “What is more blasphemous is that you convince yourselves and each other that this is the way it should be, that the fog is a permanent and perpetual one, one that doesn't go away and can never disappear. That is true, but not because the detailed duality of life between white and black is so webbed it will always remain gray but because you do nothing at attempting to understand it and map it, making it clearer and more precise. You accept the fog not because of its undying nature but because of fear, the fear of introspection, the fear of change, the fear of pain, the fear of knowing yourself.
Because it all begins with you. You are the microcosm of everything happening around you, you are the anger and confusion of this world, you are the problem you complain about, you are the love and salvation in every book you read, movie you see and song you hear, you are the war happening somewhere on this planet, you are the battlefield of the good and the evil. The dust this battlefield produces reaches high and fogs everything in sight, making all appear gray and indistinguishable from everything else. But you just aren’t looking close enough.”
He paused for another smoke and took a minute to view the gazes of the audience. All of them were silent and he read every mind. They were all convinced that he was speaking directly to them, making them confront themselves in front of everyone else. Good, he thought.
“Don’t get me wrong, the web is highly detailed and very complex, filled with hidden corridors, passages and canals. But none of it, at any point, is gray. The fog you witness is not there, it is only in your mind; it is there because you either are not wise enough to see, you purposefully ignore or deliberately deny seeing. For you, it is either white… or black… never gray… Within this understanding lays another path.”
He turned around and faced away from the audience which had the effect of amplifying the expectation and anxiety of the audience. “The full comprehension of one’s stance at what is good or evil for themselves also provides a deeper insight into other perspectives. Understanding yourself is like climbing a mountain; once you reach the top or come near it, once you elevate above the fog which lays below, nearer to the ground, you begin to see other mountain tops and you become conscious and understanding to what others see and how they perceive. You also fully comprehend how misguided and lost the views of those below are, the ones who are lost in the shadows. It is a bitter feeling when you hear the people in the fog shout and scream how pointless and impossible it is to climb to the top and how little is gained from it. And somehow those voices are the loudest and they echo in the mountains and the valleys, rocking those who are climbing to the top.”
The look he offered the audience was chilling and everyone felt this has to be meant for them in particular. Most of the people didn’t return the gaze, they lowered their heads or closed their eyes, some were pretending not to hear, others busying themselves with trivia, trying to ignore the orator. But there was no avoiding, no escaping, no way of running away or ignoring the spoken word, for he had somehow hypnotized them into listening. The power of the speaker was intense, undeniable and unavoidable. You didn’t only listen, you heard.
The man was aware of every thought in the room, of all their sins and profound secrets, they told him all without a single word but just by being and he knew how to make them confront the one thing they never wanted to see.
“You may change your address, abandon your friends and family, run away from your dreams and ambitions, deny your past and your mistakes but there is absolutely no way of preventing these thoughts from surfacing in your conscious, because no matter how hard you suppress them, I will bring them to light… run all you want, I am always in step with you.”
Shivers were felt like a wave hitting each individual in the auditorium. This was understood like a clear threat, a call to arms and a clear shout of retreat, all at the same time. But there was no running, no way of escaping or ignoring. What now?
“Why do you fear me? Why do strive to ignore me, throw me, hit me, kill me and destroy me? Why are you so intent on killing…yourself?”
He kneeled down and spoke more softly: “I am not here to hurt you; my mission is to elevate you above the animal which resides in you, above the everyday, the mundane and trivial. You were given a gift of consciousness, the universes way of helping you realize the immense beauty which lies all around you and within you, yet you so clearly want it gone and dead. It is clear just by looking down any street. All which is seen is the celebration and promotion of the animalistic, that which is holding you down and dragging you back into the nothingness. I know your history… it is filled with two examples; one accepting only the white, only the pure and “holy” and thus denying the flesh, preventing you from comprehending the world in its entirety. The other side is the world today, only in the black, the view of the animal; sex, drugs and rock n’ roll. In this world the soul inside you is robbed of its beauty by denying its existence. No extreme will help you climb to the top. The key is balance.”
He stood back upright and continued: “I am here to help. The harder you try to push me away, the harder I will push back. Or in your terms – Newton’s Third Law of Motion: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The realization of this will affect your motion, you either continue running in a circle, which over time will gain momentum and drive you to your own demise, or you start climbing to the top of your mountain, to the utmost potential which is you.”
He stopped for five seconds and then loudly proclaimed: “BEWARE OF FALSE PROPHETS! They come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Many among you are sure that you know precisely what I am talking about and many of you are quick to teach the lessons which you have not even begun to learn. There are many among you who would trade wisdom for dimes and there is a special treatment which will be imposed on those of you who deceive… it will be imposed by me. Hell is on earth and it will be me who shall make sure you feel it. You lead none but yourself, you follow no one but your mind, soul and heart, they are your only true teachers and whoever comes along proclaiming their divinity and higher understanding than yours, say to them: I will not let a blind man lead me. I seek salvation, not oblivion. I seek truth, not lies.”
The auditorium was dead silent and even those pretending to ignore before were now transfixed into starring at this black and white man. We sense truth when it is spoken, read or observed and this was undeniable. The message was as clear as day and the man knew it. He continued:
“I can be your best friend or your worst enemy and it is a decision made by you and you alone. My mission is clear; to make you in the image of the gods you worship. You can be made as such, but you have to want it. If you stray off the route and begin deceiving, lying, cheating, denying, killing, harming, wounding or betraying, it will be me who will shove you back onto the right road. In this, you have no choice. You will not escape yourself, the harder you bite, the more you yourself will feel the bite. Remember, even when I bite back, it is for your own good.”
He looked down and observed the wooden floor beneath him: “There is a bigger picture behind this, the one you won’t see in this version because you are limited by your senses. There is something so much bigger happening than what you can observe or comprehend and it is in no way meant for you to grasp it and understand it… even if you saw the picture behind, it would mean nothing to you because you just wouldn't understand it. You know what you are here to do… you are here to climb that mountain.”
He started retreating back, walking to the back of the stage to go behind the curtain. He was followed by no applause, not one sound; no one could make a noise even if they wanted to. But just before he disappeared behind the scenes, he turned back and whispered; a whisper which echoed and was heard clearer than a scream: “I am you.”
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