The Myth of Sisyphus Part II By Victoria “Stokastika”

There are certain parables that advice people to remain subservient and remain “inside the box.” Then there are certain allegories that recommend people to break outside the box and create their own box. This poetic story suggests the latter over the former. “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” —George Bernard Shaw

There was a little creature Who was told to roll a stone Up-and-down a mountain And then “Your happiness shall be found” This little creature was so-so loyal And she did what she was told And for many-many-many years The rolled up-and-down a little stone And over time the creature got older And-the rolling stone turned into a boulder And it became oh-oh-ohwa so heavy She had to carry extra on her shoulders

(Somehow turned to)

The-rolling-stone-became-a-boulder of great weight Became-more-immensely-inert every single day Because of the chains of repetition Made her mind’s heart decay So the little creature just curled up And went to seek the help from her elders On how to find some happiness From rolling stones that turned to boulders The elders stared at her, blank and clueless Left with more boulders on her shoulders And then she let go and ran away And wiped her mind to a Blank Slate The creature found-and-tried-to-sit on her older boulder On the last mountain-run, she found shattered Amidst-the-fragments, she noticed all these stones Laying around from all the mountains, eroded 1

She didn’t understand why all the scattered stones Were not all-aohhh connected Because Reality seemed to ho-ooou-ld That this system of rollers is inte-dependent

(Existence)

So this curious little creature began To-collect these fragments and tiny stones And started to build a little mountain All by herself, all on her own At-the-core-and-tip of this growin’ mound Was a set of stones like a prism Allowed her to gather and order And-build-and-build-and-build to great extent Gather and order Stones and pebbles Every single day Every single day Building and patching A pile, now a mound Every single day Every single day Got larger, larger, Larger, larger Every single day Every single day To a threshold Of a mountain Every single angle Every single way

(From a mound) (To a mountain)

And one day she noticed a creature Who also gathered some tiny stones Who built a hollow shelter for protection Surrounded by a band of smaller mounds This mysterious little other creature Was anything but another rock-roller He may be marking-and-protectin’ his own turf But has license to be curious, yet territorial They consciously encountered each other While picking up the same stone-by-a-boulder To-each-glowing-eyes, they came to confess Each finally found one’s sense of happiness

(Through) 2

And the little creature was curious To see what was in his little hollow turf And the little other creature was also curious To see the new view from the mountaintop The-little-creature ‘ceived her father, who came and said “You found your own Myth of Sisyphus Some folks like to roll up-and-down their stones But some folks need to construct and dissect Everyone’s unique. Everyone’s different. You gotta find your own Myth of Sisyphus Gotta make your own Way of Happiness Gotta find your own Method to the Madness

(Her father said somehow some folks (finally) Who keep up rollin’-up-and-down their stones (all like) But there are the others who admit they go crazy And need to build a mountain of their own)

(find)

You gotta find your own Myth of Sisyphus You gotta find your own Happiness” You must internally confess You must externally select, resist You-gotta find your own Myth of Sisyphus You-gotta find your own Happiness So the little creature kept-buildin’ a mountain Made of elements of herself, surroundings To reach a threshold of completion So she could share herself and her creation The creature needed to see and understand A larger picture, than any one roller of stones Till she constructed and overarching view So both-n-all creatures see gestalt-scapes anew The-other creature resumed to build a shelter To reach a threshold of completion To reach a degree of openness and protection While his piles of mounds remain in progress So both the eager, curious creatures Went along on a whirlwind tour Showing each other their creations And came to share in-the-end the mountain view Both saw a Terrible Beauty Full of purpose, yet detachment All the landscape below the mountain Disjunct and full of repetition 3

Purpose-detachment, awe agonistic Terrible beauty of a Myth of Sisyphus Purpose-detachment, awe agonistic Terrible beauty of a Myth of Sisyphus Terrible, Beautiful! Shrugged shoulders to-all-those who rolled boulders? Thankful and Struggling to expanding horizons At-least-there’s-no-mo’ boulders on two creatures’ shoulders They climbed down the mountain at dusk, sunset And huddled close for warmth in the shelter Some degree open, some degree protected From themselves and from the elements And before they closed their open, wide eyes Before the embarking of an uneasy night They huddled-n-curled closer in near sleep And their visions sparkled with calming glea: Some folks like to roll-up-and-down their stones But some need to build mountains all on their own You gotta find your own Myth of Sisyphus You gotta find your own Happiness Everyone’s unique. Everyone’s different. You gotta find your own Myth of Sisyphus Gotta make your own Way of Happiness Gotta find your own Method to the Madness

(find)

You must internally confess You must externally select, resist You-gotta find your own Myth of Sisyphus You-gotta find your own Happiness You gotta find your own Myth of Sisyphus You gotta find your own Happiness— And they both found an ephemeral flow of peace And then they both fell asleep And the first time—amidst chaos Fell so deeply… oh so deep….

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