IGNORE THE PREVIOUS ONES THIS ONE SHOULD WORK I CA
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The old man just paces about his room, seemingly calm to the casual observer, but his internal dialogue is racing faster than all of the minds out and about on the street in front of his dilapidated shack. The shack is out of place, especially in such an upward-moving society, full of newly high-class socialites. Amongst all the buildings, keeping up with the ebb and flow of ever-changing culture and design, he has had more important concerns than his outward appearance to the daily flux of strangers and passers-by. It isn’t a problem to the outsiders. They don’t mind the rotted black wooden frame of the door and handle, nor do they mind the eroded roof, imprecisely patched with frayed and knotted tarps pilfered from the dumpsters around town. To the inhabitants of the town, he’s an eccentric old man, best left to his own devices, lest he get offended by the advances of more modern-minded yuppies. They assume he is wise beyond his years, which is partially true. But then, shouldn’t wisdom be judged by its applicability to the current age? Shouldn’t wisdom of the latter days that has long ago become obsolete be tossed out like any other garbage or useless invention? We’ve improved on so much and taken in even more knowledge in recent years, the entire “old world” is just a waste of our mental capacity.
But then, this old man seems to revel in the ways of yesteryear, doesn’t he? Perhaps he appreciates the novelty, the quaintness, the simplicity of life before technology. He has lived for so long, too long for anyone of our time to comprehend, and it’s just become an extension of himself, hasn’t it? An intangible, idealistic steel wire binding him to his crumbling ideologies? Ah…now we may be reaching the heart of the issue. He knows how far we’ve come since his heyday. Along with the building of a new society of steel, electricity, and a powerful new sense of connection throughout the world never thought possible before, we may have overlooked the crushing of the older ways of the “simpler” world. We paved over his experiences, his way of life and learning, his MIND without giving it a second thought, yawning to ourselves as we ran the steamroller of progress straight through a field of freshly sprouted ideas. We couldn’t just have a few grassy blades of ideas taking up space. We made better use of the space didn’t we?
He certainly didn’t see it that way. Despite how much we’ve shown him, the old way is the only way. He will make it work, no matter how many disparaging remarks he hears from arrogant young’ns crossing in front of that old shack of his. You’ve outlived even yourself, old man. The old world is gone, buried under our monuments to progress, memorials to you and your life. The only remaining piece of that long-lost time is the air you breathe in the shack where you’ve holed yourself up, determined to prove something to us about the way you learned to see the world. We don’t have to take that away from you too, do we?