Teachings From the Smartest Man Alive

A small, short story I wrote. I may want to expand on it later; it has much potential. Enjoy.

I'm a maniac. I'm a hypocrite. I'm a brute. I'm ignorant. Everyone is. What separates me from the rest, you ask? I recognize this in myself. I didn't at first. Not for a long while. Indeed, I was just like the rest of you. I saw the world in such an innocent light. Unfortunately, innocence isn't always true. It wasn't until I met the smartest man alive that I realized this. Why do I call him this? Simply, because he had an advanced understanding of the human mind. Not the brain, no the psyche, and certainly not in technical terms, as a doctor may know about it. I bumped into him randomly on the street. He said something entirely out of character for a complete stranger. In fact, I think after a swift glance over me, he knew that I had the ability to understand.

"The best way to take a really good look at yourself is through the eyes of someone else," he said directly to me. As you can imagine, I was confused at first. He gave me a reassuring nod to let me know that I was being spoken to.

"What if they person is especially ignorant?" I asked.

"Then they are especially pure and can identify the traits the best, even if they don't recognize these themselves, due to their stupidity. However, allow the one, me, that understands this the most, or perhaps the least, but at least recognizes it more than anyone else to show you what I mean," he replied.

"How?" He didn't answer. Instead, he stared directly at me. He almost transferred his very thoughts and ideas to me, or, maybe, put my mind in his body. I suddenly understood that I was all of the things. I also knew somehow that he was leaving. "Will I see you again," I asked.

"I don't know, will you? It's your choice. Answer your own question." And with that, he was gone.

Nice story Elfar, keep up the great work!

A few days later, I was in a coffee shop. He walked in, and instantly I could feel the presence in the room shift to a more interesting environment. I turned and approached him immediately.

"Hey," I said, unsure of anything useful to say.

"Do I know you?" He replied, getting directly to the point, which, I learned, was his style.

"Yes. We met the other day."

"Or perhaps you met me, I only an absent figure, reflecting on my own thoughts," he said.

"It was clear that you were addressing me," I said, slightly annoyed.

"Perhaps it was a counterpart of myself, this a mere mood, and the mood alters who the human is."

"You're confusing me."

"No I'm not. You're confusing yourself. You can think what you will of the situation, and you're making it more difficult then it truly is," he said, his voice changing tone to show me that he was amused.

"Playing the blame game I see?"

"No, you are. You began the conversation in the first place. Allow me to explain in simpler terms. You've forgotten situations before, correct?"

"Yes."

"And you've felt not like yourself at times, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then it's only natural that I could have forgotten an experience in which I was an entirely different personality then I currently am, thus projecting a different plane and perception of the universe then I initially had," he finished, satisfied with this explanation, which, as he, no doubt, knew, would also satisfy me.

"It's plausible," I said.

"Not plausible. It is so," and, once again, with no further explanation, he left, which, once again, was his style.

I don't remember teaching you all this stuff! :O

oniongravy64 wrote:

I don't remember teaching you all this stuff! :O

You forgot an experience when you were a different personality then you currently are in. Just as the story says. xD

Interesting and very confusing! I don't care what he says about how I might be confusing myself lol

The next encounter took me my surprise. I was at the train station, returning from a ride downtown. A stranger, hidden my his hood, stopped me.

"Which way is up?" He asked.

"Are you honestly asking me that? Seriously, you can find direction on any map, or, for that matter, using a compass," I snapped back.

"Then all those things are wrong," he said, pulling his hood off to show me his face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, changing my attitude.

"Up is the way you want to go always. You don't need a compass or map to tell you the right way. Now tell me, are there any other ways to find direction?"

"Sure. Magnets, stars, and other various thing in nature," I replied.

"No," he said, offering no help.

"Well, other then instinct, I don't," I began.

"EXACTLY!," he said, interrupting me.

"It's not always accurate," I said.

"Do you really need all of these assistances that other people invented and decided to tell you which way is the right way?"

"It certainly makes things easier."

"Easy is not always right," he muttered. He walked away, mumbling to discover my own way.

The next circumstances of meeting him deeply disturbed and shook me to the core, as well as helped what I later found out, which I will get to, make slightly more sense. I was walking into my small two room apartment. I was shocked to she him sitting on my couch like it was nothing extraordinary. I had no time to consider how odd it was though. He had another lesson prepared.

"Evening," he muttured.

"Uh, hey," I replied.

"Now, tell me, did you say that because you have been trained to by our society, or because you felt it appropriate?"

"It was a reply to your similar saying," I said.

"Several things. To begin with, it was simply an observation that it is now the evening. You assumed it to be a greeting. Secondly, why does it matter what I say? You can decided these things for yourself."

"Precisely. I decided to say that. Is there a problem with that?"

"Indeed there is. You said it just to spit pointless words at me as a response to my mere observation."

"FINE! I wanted to say that. Hey, hey, hey, hey! Is there a problem with that? I choose what I say and you can't tell me what to say. You know what you are? The living gesture of how everything society does is wrong, which, as it happens, is following a chunk of society," I shouted, fed up with his seemingly pointless lessons.

"Excellent!"

"We aren't the same person, so I can think what I want, and you what you want, correct?"

He didn't reply. Instead he grinned. Little did I know what truths laid behind that mere grin.

"Hungry?" He asked.

"A little," I said.

"Then eat," he said.

"I'll do what I want when I do."

"Good, you are learning!" He exclaimed. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"WHAT? NO!"

"Yes I can. You can't make me leave."

"I'll call the police."

"Fine. They can't make me leave either."

"They can by force," I shot back.

"Ah, they can my body, but not my conscious mind. Only I make that leave, and if I were to plunge a knife through my heart while here, then, well, my mind is released in this room, so they can't force my existence out."

"Please get out," I said, looking towards him. He, however, was already gone.

I... dont have a clue whats happening. it seems intresting.

I woke up the next morning. It seemed normal. Perhaps I might actually live a day without running into him? It turned out he did not show up that day. Nor the next. I was slightly worried I might not see him again. As soon as this worry began to truly set in, as more then just slight anxiety, but, rather, a true feeling of remorse for anything to be said or done with him, he showed up.

"Where have you been?" I asked as soon as I noticed him.

"You should know better than anyone."

"No, I had no idea. Generally I just expect you to show up," I said.

"Ah, but things don't always meet your expectations," he observed.

"Yes, but there is always a feeling of regret that comes with it not occurring."

"Indeed. You shouldn't have expected it though."

"It seemed to become routine."

"You don't expect; you make things happen. In the past, very nearly, you have summoned, or called me," he said.

"Not that I knew," I muttered.

"Precisely. You didn't know. In this same way, you couldn't prevent your subconscious, which, in many regards, is the true measure of yourself to expect it. This time you were so sure that I would show up, that you prevented it from happening, not knowing so."

"How do I control it?" I asked, fairly interested.

"You meet every aspect, every fiber of your being together, forcing the single thought that you really, truly, in your heart, head, and instinct want, and it will come eventually. Perhaps it will occur in a form that you don't particularly notice, but, I guarantee, it will come. This thing will have a compelling, universal drive to come into your mere presence, that an irresistible force in the universe will naturally attract the things together. This could be defined as something you truly want, but, to a strong enough degree, it is what the majority of the race considers love between people. That is the aspect of a soul mate. They aren't soul mates though, they are universe mates, that, perhaps, were willed together. The wonderful part is, that in this same regard, you force the universe to make you, thus starting a huge chain of events, too complicated to possibly get into, even for me," he concluded, leaving me stunned at his brilliance, once again.

"It's extraordinary," I said, breathing the whole of what he said in.

"Yes, it is. A very exasperating matter if you get your thoughts intertwined with it too much, though."

"You have figured out one of the largest questions to the universe, without a doubt."

"That's where your wrong. Following the logic I just stated, the universe is me, or, rather, each individual. I simply found the truths in myself," he stated.

"May I see an example of this willing yourself for something to happen?" I asked.

"How could I do that? You already willed me to disappear." Of course, with that, he was gone.

The next time I saw him was the last time. It was a long meeting, though. We met at a restaurant.

"Why are we here?" He asked.

"To eat...," I replied.

"Sometimes it feels like you've learned nothing from me," he sighed. "The correct answer would be to die, of course."

"That's a matter of faith."

"This has nothing to do with religion. I'm not putting in an opinion about that. Those who live for religion, live, in hopes of, after their death, having some type of afterlife. Quite simply, to die."

"What of those who aren't religious."

"They're people of science mostly. Often people who just believe in science die to see their scientific explanation. They simply live because they are here. They wait to die, like the rest of us," he stated.

"You're wrong. I disagree with you here. We live to live. We wait for death, but don't live for it. You're logic is flawed." He just grinned at me. "What's the matter? Nothing to say back?" He kept smiling.

"You're right," he said after a while. "So am I, though," he added, after a pause.

"I don't understand. The points are contradictory," I said.

"You will on your deathbed. You may not now, and, no matter what I say you won't now. Just wait. Come, let's take a walk."

He both walked out of the restaurant.

"Tell me," he began, pulling out a cigar, "what is most precious to you?" He had a slight gleam in his eyes.

"Well, I guess...it might be...nothing," I said with a sigh.

"Terrific, isn't it? You have so much knowledge, so much skill, and you deserve so much. Nothing is precious to you though," he said.

"What of you?" I asked.

"Haha, don't worry about me. I have no reason to exist but you. I am your servant. For the time being at least," he said, with a light chuckle.

"What do you mean?" I asked. He shook his head, smiling.

"Think about what I said earlier. Now, this is the test of what you've truly learned from me. What is most precious to you?" I did think. I thought for so long that he seemed like he might say something. I ran over everything in my life. Was it work? Was it knowledge? What was it?

"Existence...," I finally said, with a sigh.

"Good, good. Now why is this?" He inquired.

"This is interesting. I exist for the most precious thing to me, which is existence in itself. Now, what does this make my reason for existing? To find what is most precious to me. This, as I said, is existence. So, I live to find existing," I finished, proud of my thoughtfulness.

"Wrong," he mumbled.

"What? In which way?"

"Every single way," he said chuckling again.

"Okay, that's it! I've gone along with you on very nearly everything so far, but this is bullshit. That was right, and you know it. No matter what you, the smartest man alive, say, that was correct!" I exclaimed.

"Excellent. Just because you're told something is true, doesn't mean it is. Hell , what if everything I've told you is a lie? What if life is a lie? What if I'm a lie? Then everything I've told you is useless!" He shouted. People began to stare. We stopped at a four way cross walk.

"You can't be saying that you've been pulling my leg this whole time," I said.

"No, I'm not. I'm saying that life is what you make it. What is your life? What do you choose to believe of what I've told you? You're the best at deciding, and do you know why?" He asked, now sounding annoyed.

"Because I have free will?" I said, unsure.

"No, you dumb ass. I've laid it all out so clearly! It's because you are me. You are the smartest man alive. I'm just you're humble servant, as I said earlier. I'm a creation of your subconscious. Everyone is the smartest man alive. You're just one of the few to release me. I'm just letting you know what's buried in you already know. I haven't taught you a thing that you didn't know. You make the rules. You know everything about the universe already. Make the world what you will, as everyone should, because we all live to exist, and take our own creative outlook on the world," he yelled, angry. I was very confused. I also was almost relieved. I couldn't believe it.

"I think I get it," I said, eventually. "Life is what you make it. Nothing more, nothing less. It's all a game. A sick game. A game being played by higher life forms."

"If that's your outlook, then let it be," he said. "I think it's a bit negative, but I have no room to disagree with you. After all, we're the same person."

"Hold on, if you're in everyone, and I am you, then is everyone the same person, correct?" I said, uncertain.

"If that's what you believe, then yes. I can't tell you what's real and what's not anymore. It's all for you to decide. Make the best of your world. Don't let your thoughts be corrupted by the physical. Corrupt it, but do it with what's not there. With the universe. With yourself. I have nothing more to teach you. Teach it to yourself," he said, walking away.

"Wait," I said. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Where's that," I asked.

"Think about all you've taught yourself, and, one day, you'll know." With that he was gone. I shook my head, and began to turn in the direction to home, where I always go. Something made me pause. Something that made me realize where home was. I then turned and went it the direction of the crosswalk that the fewest people were going. This is because, in the back of mine, I thought I heard four little words, that were very faint.

"Which way is up?"

I suppose this is the end of my little story. I apologize for the language, but it felt like it had to be there, where it was. For those that didn't understand, and I'm sure there were plenty, as the smartest man alive said, you get to choose what the universe is, for yourself. So, you also get to decide which way is up. Now, I want you to ask yourself, for you, personally, which way is up?