Truth

Determination has always been just a word for me. Just a big empty word like millions of other words people use to make you feel small.
Determination. They said I had none, that I'd be nothing more than a speck on this earth. Of course, my initial reaction is to laugh or shrug them off, being that most of the people reciting these words never knew what I was determined to do.

A month ago, my flight landed in Western Europe. With nothing but my backpack, my degree inside, a change of clothes, my notebook and my nunchucks, I began to walk. Having graduated from the university of Grandeur and realizing that a degree hardly made it easier to find a job, I realized that I needed a new truth. A truth that didnt depend on this sheep's skin. A truth that wouldn't dissolve if I added pressure or submerged it under the seas of inspection. And so, I began to walk.

Cliche enough, I backpacked through Europe, losing time only in Amsterdam. And I walked until the people began to look different. Their skin was no longer pale and chalky. Their hair wasn't short and blond but now long and jet black to cover their tanish skin. Even their eyes changed. It, seemingly, happened so quickly. Like walking from the slum of our nation's Capitol to the political district. In a blink, the hoods changed. I saw less cafes with people drinking red wine and more people tilling land.

I kept walking. Walking. Walking, knowing that I would not stop until I found a new truth.
My truth.

Leaving a vast amount of land behind me, I saw in the distance what looked like it could have been a city. But it wasn't. Or maybe it was, before.
The closer I walked to the collection of houses, the more I realized that they weren't houses at all, the harder it became to breathe the increasingly thick air and the more the  same air smelled strange.
Trotting down the hill entering the town, I saw a single tan man in an orange dress tied in a knot over one shoulder and the other exposed to the elements.

First I thought he must be cold. But I remembered it was summer and it had to have been around noon. His back was facing me so I doubt he knew I was coming. The closer I got to him, the more I realized what he was doing. He hasn't moved since he first came into my line of sight. Staring forward, then down, then up then back down, he never moved. Closer, still, I could see his shoulders rise and drop heavily. And so I evaluated the scene.

The buildings, those that still stood, were charred. Black with soot and ash and missing walls and ceilings so you could see the nothing's inside. The buildings that were no longer standing were still smoking. The closer I got to the man, the fewer words I had for him.

"This looks horrible. I'm sorry. Was anyone hurt?" I managed as I closed the distance.
To my surprise, he wasn't startled by my presence. Nor did he dry his eyes as he turned around to face me.
"Are you okay?" I asked but he just stared at me for a short while and took a shorter bow. I bowed back, knowing this is a greeting and sign of respect in some places. He smiled lightly and bowed again. Then he started to walk away. I thought to continue my afternoon stroll when he turned around. The look he gave me told me he held the truth I was looking for. Even in his destruction, he was to give me light.

So I followed him.

I followed him along a along and winding pathway, "where are we going?"
No reply
"Actually, where am I?"
No reply
Then, I asked myself, "does it even matter?"
And I think I heard him snicker.
Before too long, we came across a set of stairs. So many stairs, in fact, that they plotted out the horizon. Without hesitation, he began to climb.
"Hey! Can I take the elevator?" I realized how insensitive this was, not because this place clearly didnt have an elevator but because, if they did, it probably burned with the rest of the place. And so, I followed.

Two hours later, we reached the top. Well, I reached the top, my friend having long since left me behind. I drank from my canteen as reward and followed him, still, to a small building that was still left intact.

He sat on a small mat and held his hand out indicating I should take the one across from him. I did.
Why? I don't know. But I did.

"Are you okay?" II asked again.
He responded with a slight nod and his deep gazing stare. It was so intense that I didn't know if he saw me at all. Maybe he saw my essence. Maybe he saw straight through my quasi intellect bullshit. Maybe he understood me better than I understood myself. Maybe he was me.

"Can I ask you a question?"
He stared.
"Um, well, what is this all of this for?" I waved my hand around to indicate that I meant these temples. "I mean, is normal life not suitable for you?" And I thought for a second, maybe this is normal. And if it was, would it be suitable for me. And what's so suitable about what I consider normal anyway? I wondered if anyone ever threatened to bomb this place like they do America.
Well, at least one person wanted to. And succeeded.

"I just feel so deceived. Everything I was taught growing up was wrong, or a lie or has changed. And I don't know how to make heads or tails of any of it. Am I headed towards success or running from it. What even is success? A boring job that helps me buy a basic house to house a wife who won't let me touch her when I want but has dinner ready when I get home and spends my money on two kids who don't speak to me? And then, what even is happiness? Working a job I love for no pay so I can't eat breakfast or lunch so I'm starving even before noon and can't focus on the work I love all for a check that won't pay my rent so I'm always harassed by my landlord adding to the stress of my pending hunger causing me to focus even less, inevitably leading to my termination? And what the fuck did I even buy this $24,000 degree for anyway if I can only get a job at enterprise?"

He stared at me. Did he even hear me? Was he deaf? No, no, I know I heard him laugh earlier. But did he laugh at what I said or at his own thoughts. Maybe he can tread lips. Maybe he can hear and not speak.
"Hey, can you talk?"
He shook his head.
"But you can hear me, right?"
He nodded.
"And you understand?"
He nodded.
"So you know English?"
He smiled and nodded.
I sighed, "what a relief. So why won't you talk."
Again, he simply stared at me.

"I know you monks have some key to peace and the truth and wisdom and shit. I need that knowledge. I don't have anything. The foundation I grew up on has been completely destroyed. I don't know anything. Magna cum laude and I don't know shit. I'll die broke because I don't know here from there or where to go. I'm upset. Angry even. Angry at my own ignorance. Angry at the confusion. The lies. Everything. I'm angry at everything.  I just want peace. I just want to know. I just want the truth."

Still he stared. I couldn't make eye contact any longer. My eyes watered at the hopeless failure I had become.

I heard him stand and when I looked he was facing outside, watching the destruction settle. Melting inside myself, whimpering, I knew he had no answers for me and had made my mind to leave.

When he spoke, his voice sure and unwavering, "you are a fool. There is no truth. All things of the world are of lies. A lie based off a generation of lies only seems like a lie because what you see as truth is, too, a lie. There is no truth. You are the truth. You exist and that is the only truth you know. And because you exist, your truth exists. You create it. You create the truth that you want by weaving the lies at your disposals into what you want. You are your truth. You believed I was mute, that was your truth until I destroyed it. Your truth is that I was a mute. You took the lie that I implied and created this truth. The truth is, I took a vow of silence but, sometimes, I talk. You would believe that this place was attacked by heartless terrorists. I burned this establishment to the ground. That is my truth. Find your truth, yours and yours alone, and you will find the light to guide you."

With this, he stepped back into the sunlight and walked back towards the steps. He took a deep breath and without turning around, jumped from the top step...

And flew into a place where he could escape his truth.