Might Adventures of a Lonely Tea-Cup.

Out in a forest there is a large opening, to a grassy lawn. In this lawn lays an old abandoned house. It creaks in the wind, and is only still held up by pure will. No one bothers to fix it up because no one knows it even exists. In fact it does not exist, but neither does the forest, because they are only in the existence in one's mind. So in essence they do exist, and are in existence in multiple places at the same time, but in a much different scale than the normal reference of existing. Inside of this semi-fictitious house, their lay a shelf, and inside this shelf sits a small porcelain tea-cup.

There is nothing special about this cup, it is very plain, but might possibly have been
used for its purpose very well. Here it has sat for nearly a century. Not once did it every think about moving, not once did it object to its current state of affairs. It never
voted, never dodged the draft, and never paid taxes. For the last century, it had assumed that its sole purpose was that of a tea-cup, and was waiting patiently for it to be taken into the hand of a person, to be used to drink tea. It took nearly a hundred years of contemplation before it decided to move.
For a little while, not even a thought of doubt had crossed its mind. At this time the house was in occupation, and it sat in its place amongst many other cups and plates and eating apparatus. One day the owner moved away, leaving everything behind. The cup was still comfortable, amongst all of his other comrades. They all knew that they were tea cups and waited patiently, because that was their design. About ten years later, after many years of disuse the house began to fall apart. First the roof began to deteriorate and the windows had all been shattered, but still the cup stood steadfast, waiting, knowing, undoubting in its ways. Then one day struck disaster with a large storm, a thunderous, gale force wind type storm, and with one foul swoop, a tremendous gust blew nearly two thirds of the cups, his closest friends to the ground, shattering into thousands of pieces. Gone, to the great abyss, and all that was left were shards of porcelain.

This was when the first event to shocked the cup enough to make him re-evaluate his surroundings. With only a select few cups remaining, he wondered why the owner of the house would allow something as tragic as the storm was, to destroy nearly everyone he knew. He began to ponder and to re-evaluate his peaceful existence, and soon his aspirations grew. Being a fictional story and all, this tea cup decided to grow some legs. Fed up with his current state of affairs, he climbed down from the cabinet and directly out the front door. Anyone who doubts the free will of a lonely tea cup will be sorely disappointed. That first step into the open was the first time it hit him; he had officially enacted free will. By sprouting legs and walking outside, he was no longer serving his sole purpose; he no longer would serve tea. From inside he could faintly hear the dissatisfaction from the few survivors still alive. He knew that in front of him he would face a harsh reality, the burden of free will, on a being, just realizing the potential of the world.

As the door slammed closed by a strong gust, the tea cup was already well on his way into the opening of the non-existent forest surrounding the non-existent house. His sensory perception was on overdrive; seeing, smelling, feeling as if this was a whole new world opened up before his eyes. He followed a faint trail, created by some non-existent grazing deer. He followed this trail deep into the heart of the forest. The verdant moss began to become more and more prevalent, and the trees began to canopy overhead. Birds sang quaint little melodies, and squirrels scurried about the branches. As dusk turned to night, the tea cup decided it was time to take a rest; he had had a very busy day. He hunkered down into a little moss covered bed, and he slept.

To sleep--perchance to dream*; to dream as if the world were unbound by the hardships that create reality. This tea cup dreamed mightily that night. He relived each and every day of his meager existence. Examining his every motive, his every doubt, his every emotion, or lack thereof. He was 112 years old and was just starting to begin his life. He had a dream that one day this small insignificant tea cup would rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed.* He awoke the next morning as the first ray of light began to shimmer through the canopy of trees above him. Standing up slowly, he took the first step of a free object, like that of a man pardoned from death row. His outlook changed from menial existence, to experience. There was no way to live freely in a fictional forest that extends infinitely in the mind of the beholder. With this one step, he stepped out of the forest and into utter confusion.
Separation between reality and fiction. This truth held to be self evident has very rarely been discussed because there has never been much opposition towards it. It is only an evident truth because the majority of the real world believes so. Hank, the pseudonym that this tea cup decided to take on, began a struggle to stop the safety felt by the world. The safety which is mentioned is the safety that comes from understanding, to believe in unremitting truth. Hank stepped out of the forest and into the real world. Almost immediately, he was rejected and thrown back into the forest. He was thrown back by the undoubting sense of knowledge that the world bestowed against his existence. The only way to transition would be to shatter preconceptions, to alter the mindset of an entire realm of being. This is a daunting task to porcelain being weighing a mere thirteen ounces.

The forest melted into a shimmering oblivion, the world sunk into a murky abyss. Out of the deconstruction; out of the destruction came a whole new form of creation. The mind only exists to prove to ourselves that we have meaning; that we exist and everything makes sense. It is a rationalizing machine that runs on oil and quite often needs to be repaired. The population of the known universe was nothing more than a collaboration of self evidences. People create this Earth. In no way or form is it the other way around. The world as humans know it is the cumulative observatory rationalizing of a place too big and complicated to be accurately rationalized. Therefore, a strict set of laws were created, subconsciously by the whole of the world. Fact is the notion of reality how humans want it to be.

The tea cup was merely the opposite. He was merely not yet a part of these subconscious laws that govern the Earth. The only way to truly become "real", Frank needed to be accepted by a majority of the population. You see, this is impossible from the onset, because Frank is not real, and has no way of communicating to the "real" world. What he had to do was wait. The only way to accomplish anything is to have connections, and in this faux forest, there were not yet any connections to reality. Frank began to wander aimlessly around the forest waiting, just waiting, for something tangible to reach out and tell him that he could step into reality. The paradoxical nature of this very scenario is that even those who are not real, are also bound by a certain set of unconscious laws, created by all those who were deemed to be not real, because they were not yet accepted by the real world.

Frank soon realized his pessimistic sensibilities were probably correct. It could take hundreds if not thousands of years before he or anything else in this forest would be deemed real, without any sort of intervention. Epiphany; in the form of enough aimless meandering to bring out anything about a man...or tea cup. Frank realized what was necessary. He would attempt to change the course of the real world, by himself. He would shatter the unconscious laws, and if this was unobtainable, he would at least mold them to his fitting. Quickly he began the long arduous journey back to the dilapidated house; he would soon become the great orator if his time.

It took approximately forty-two hours to return to the house, and when he finally returned, it was not the great welcome he had expected. You see, unenlightened porcelain eating apparatus, don't take well to change. They have a misoneism of sorts. To see one of their own kind spurt some legs and wander off into the forest is not common place, nor is it responded well to. Frank new that it would take some good convincing on his part to talk his peers out of their ways of antiquity. He was going to change this fictitious world one fact at a time.

A small boy sits quietly next to a calmingly simple stream. He is one of the few unaffected people left in the world. He is not bound by anything conscious or subconscious nor has any notion that he is unaffected. All that exist in his life are his surroundings. A cool breeze yet as simple as a flowing river yet as triumphant as a mossy rock yet as calming as a bed of grass. To be is to exist. To exist is to be. To exist is to exist and to be as is to be. The pure observatory greatness of this small boy greatly overcame this false rational notion of reality. His stream lay in a forest. This forest did not exist, but did so much as to be the path most trodden. The societal aspects of this story are taken from the context of a member of society, making flawed arguments that never quiver in their sincerity. This creates an unjust, yet strikingly clear adherence to understandable cohesion, yet lacks the depth and feeling of the actual events, for the actual events were too complex to truly appreciate through sub contextual description.

This boy had struck up a conversation with the most interesting of characters. To what seemed as normal as up is down, he was talking with an aged tea cup. This small boy had one of the most underrated talents in the world; he had the ability to truly listen. Not once did he ever feel the need to interrupt, or to add his own little anecdote, but it was evident in his eyes that he almost needed to hear this little tea cup's story. This cup was aged much beyond the years of a normal drinking apparatus. His handle was mostly broken off, and his body was chipped and cracked; he was wise well beyond his years. This cup told of his struggle, his yearning, his complacent need to become a member of this elite "real" society. He at first tried to change his own world in an attempt to change the underlying causes of his faux society. The ability to change the context of meaning does not change the state of existing. While this little society in this little abandoned house began to believe that it was real, it is in essence that it did not matter. This ambitious tea cup thought that if everything in this forest believed that it was real, that it would be "real". This was most certainly not the case. This brings up the paradox that enforces the rigidity of the entire known being. Just because the world is created by a majority rule, does not mean that this majority is correct. The underlying subconscious truths and facts that make up our world are the rationalizing of the unknown. The unknown is unknown for a reason. The paradox, in more straight foreword terms, is this: the more truths obtained in life, the less we know about knowledge.

To transcend into the dilute ocean of eternal being. To swim in the vast sea of all encompassing freedom. The boy stood up after the tea cup finished telling of his arduous journey and his yearning to be real, but of failure to the third degree. If a tea cup could be a hermit, Frank most certainly was. Tea cup in hand the boy gracefully sauntered through the veil of unremitted truth. The forest melted into a wide array of free moving colors and shapes, all uniting into one entity of being. The world followed suite. The highways, and jet planes, and mountains, and rivers, and humans, and fish all danced the Devine dream and swirled into a single entity. With a thunderous clap, it all exploded into a tumultuous interposing of reality and truth. The boy quietly, without reservation walked directly into the ensuing madness. All was dark, but everything made sense. All was silent, but sounded as boisterous as a full orchestra. All was at peace. A tea cup is only a tea cup if it believes it is so. A truth is only a truth if it believes it is so. The words on this page only have meaning because we make it so.

To be is to choose; to choose that being is the correct plan of action. To counter is to define that which is not bound or gagged. To defend is to persuade oneself that to be is the only way to choose. But the purest of all decisions come in the decisions not made. To counter is to defend is to choose. The hardest thing of all is the step four feet to the left and one step into the fourth dimension. To break limitation is to break recognition of truth. Of reality comes existence. Of existence comes awareness. Of awareness comes being. Of being comes recognition. Of recognition comes truth. The boy and the tea cup merely climbed up the ladder, from truth to reality. And when they hit reality, they jumped, but never quite hit the ground. By jumping entirely off the ladder, they defined their own new reality and hovered above the feeling of existence and the façade of time.