Frankstine

4 min read
frankstine

Did they really give you a chance to be yourself? Is it really scary hiding behind those daunting scars? Or did you get comfortable over time?

A monster; driven away from society for their daunting scars and stitches. Chased away for something they are brought into, exposed into the realm which a few people dictate, tied to the rules and teased into pieces with their torture, got sowed back into what they call a beautiful creature, and molded into a vase which they can lay dying flowers in. They talked about the clay and the maker, they said the sculptor crafts a beautiful art but why is she covered with stitches? Why is there so much ugliness and scars on his face? Why is there so much soreness? Cunning arts given various names, expected to live up to the standard of those callings, and when they fail to do so, rules are molded into a scalpel, norms beaten up like gold into a spear.

Caring is taught through the pain and agony, each stitch and scar is a reminder of his capability, the capability to scar someone the same way, capability to serve the purpose of his calling – to be the monster and resist his wounded heart’s a call to justice. Who would win in the court if they are put on trial? The doctor who created the monster or the monster? The doctor who crafted the cunning art or the masterpiece? A court made by them and for them, is there really a fair trial? Is there really a fair trial where stitched people may go and demand justice, where they can walk in without the crowd gazing at their hideous scars and walk out without their stitches? Is there really a place where one can demand to be understood? Or is it too much to ask?

Did they really give you a chance to be yourself? Is it really scary hiding behind those daunting scars? Or did you get comfortable over time? Would you be the same person if you ate the apple and kept the doctor away? Do you truly dislike the person you're transforming into? Perhaps the anesthetic they used to stitch you up is wearing off and you can feel your scars for the first time — now that you realize what they did to you, you are responding to the SOS your heart is seeking. What are you planning? Is there a trail in heaven that you seek for?

I suppose all you aspire and strive for could be in vain. Isn't that the whole point of the biblical book Ecclesiastes? King Solomon utters “I have seen something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all.” You fought your battles, advanced to the war, and then lost. You tried and failed to make sense of life once more. Is it fair to have the same fate as your doctor? Aren't you the one who's afraid, battered, and hopeless? Why are you doomed to the same fate as the beater?

This is how the wisest man pokes you in the eye with the truth once more. "The virtuous and the wicked, the good and the bad, the clean and the dirty all share the same destiny," he said. As it is with the good man, so it is with the sinner; as it is with those who swear, so it is with those who refuse to swear."

This is the evil in all that occurs under the sun: the same fate overtakes all. Furthermore, men's hearts are full of evil, and there is lunacy in their hearts while they live, and thereafter they join the dead. 

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