Of course, it is convenient to think in terms of patterns and shortcuts, and to conform to the opinions of the majority. However, in doing so, the uniqueness of one’s individuality is sacrificed. The individual becomes a part of the gray mass, a member of the crowd, as unremarkable as a simple pencil, capable only of thinking in the direction dictated by their leader. Even if this leader is like a Pied Piper, leading others to foolishness and death, the followers will still follow.
Vision of the future.
The biggest mistake in life is being someone you are not.
Portrait of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.
– How strange it is that ordinary things sometimes inspire us. For example, someone’s work or a dramatic story – I once shared my thoughts with my supervisor.
My companion and I were on the veranda one beautiful summer day. The sun was shining brightly, birds were singing and little fairies were fluttering around on the meadow flowers. They were tiny, about half the size of my little finger, and my supervisor loved them very much. He often took them in his hand and admired them. Their hair was golden and their eyes shone like the sky sparkled in the morning sun.
– You know, it’s quite possible that someone will tell my story like that one day. Someday, someone will be so interested in me as a writer and as the heroine of a mystical story,» -I continued thinking aloud.
–It’s possible, even probable, -the Curator replied to me.
The picture changed. Completely transforming the place we were in. This suggests that one picture has been replaced by another. Now we found ourselves in the Curator’s Black Castle, for him it was a place and a home and an office and a throne room and even his prison. In the place where we were, there was a desk, which was littered with thousands of folders. The throne is majestic in black, lacquered. Behind the throne was a window that showed a bloody sky. Two comfortable armchairs located opposite each other next to the fireplace. We sat down in them. There was a green flame dancing in the fireplace, and it was warm. There was also a table nearby, on which a decanter with an empty glass stood alone.
– Do you like the atmosphere in my gloomy castle?
– It’s creepy, but it’s passable, – I replied.
– I don’t know how to answer your question. Answering all of your questions is like cutting off the fifth leg of a chair. The design of such a special high-chair may not be able to withstand it, «my interlocutor said, pouring some wine for himself.
–I can give you your case. The book of your life. It describes your whole life. When you were born and when you will die, where and how you lived, what deeds you did, in how many lives of people and non-people you marked. In short, everything. It contains everything you really want to know, – the Curator continued the conversation.
He got up from his chair, went to his desk, and picked up one of the folders. He came back, standing behind the chair he was sitting in. Leaning his body on his back.
While the Curator went to get the folder, I noticed that his clothes, embroidered with flowers and gold threads, had been replaced by a black floor-length robe. And his hair is sun-colored, jet-black, and waist-length. Only his pallor remained unchanged. The eyes of the owner of the Black Castle became black like his castle, without whites and round like a fish’s. The change in his image didn’t scare me at all. When dealing with demons, you get used to almost everything, and the fear completely atrophies.