rollinboyo
Bluelighter
A small man walked noisily through a door. Nobody noticed the man, so he loudly announced his arrival. Even then, no one payed him any attention. Distressed, he shouted again. Nothing. At his wits end, with tears streaming down his face, he punched a man near the entrance square on the jaw. Soon the police arrived and threw the man into jail. Upon his departure, those in the room, although slightly disturbed by the bustle near the entrance, returned to what they had been doing, forgetting the man, until moments later he had never existed.
Another man walked quietly through the same door. He, too, went unnoticed. Undeterred, the man sat down at an empty table and went to work. Ceaselessly, caring naught for the company of men, he labored. After many weeks and months of toil, he stood up. Every person in the room stared in rapt attention, speechless with awe and delight, for he had completed a great work. A work infused with the sweat of his brow and the tears of his eyes — with the essence of his soul. He had created a proof of his self, and now no man could ignore him.
Another man walked quietly through the same door. He, too, went unnoticed. Undeterred, the man sat down at an empty table and went to work. Ceaselessly, caring naught for the company of men, he labored. After many weeks and months of toil, he stood up. Every person in the room stared in rapt attention, speechless with awe and delight, for he had completed a great work. A work infused with the sweat of his brow and the tears of his eyes — with the essence of his soul. He had created a proof of his self, and now no man could ignore him.
