U-niquely YOU-th

Considered a youth myself by today's standards, I can't help but wonder if my generation has lost touch with the YOU in Unique...

u·nique (y-nk)
adj.
1. Being the only one of its kind.
2. Without an equal or equivalent; unparalleled.
3. YOU

It all comes down to stories.

My story is my own interpretation of the life I've lead thus far.

Your story is your own rendition of the life you've lead thus far.

Our story makes us one and the same fundamentally: we're all human.

Not much to be debated.

So where does the monster dubbed "society" fit into this picture? Society isn't a noun.  It doesn't breath, eat, or live. This "society" we conform to has no face or personality, it's an enigma of ideas and beliefs constructed through inherently fake ideals and false information created by....whom?

I'll tell you a story:

Seed=concept

One day a farmer stands at the edge of his tilled land, staring at the acres of soil that is eager and ready to absorb what the farmer has to offer.  After a thoughtful moment, the farmer reaches into his pocket and produces a seed. He considers the seed and the effects it will have on the vast openness of the vulnerable land.  Then without a second thought, he bends down and plants the seed at his feet.  He waters the earth and allows the sun's ray's to penetrate the ground. Soon, the seed begins to sprout.  Roots begin to take hold. The seed becomes a seedling. The seedling strives to grow. It reaches up and out of the earth, waiting eagerly and patiently at the farmer's feet ready to produce. And produce it does.  Soon fruit begins to sprout, dropping in abundance. As the fruit falls, they break open and more seeds fall out, mixing into the empty soil all around.  Roots begin to take hold and before long, more seedlings begin to emerge, and the vast emptiness becomes abundant with new life and growth, each a replica of it's seedling sibling before.

One gorgeously sunny day, a vagabond comes wondering into the land of the farmer and see's the beautiful acres of lush green plants and beautiful fruit lying in abundance right before him.  The vagabond is hungry, he hasn't eaten in days and is eager for some nourishment.  Without thinking to question the Farmer, the vagabond reaches out and plucks the first ripe fruit he see's from the vines of the supple plant and takes a bite into the beautiful white flesh of the fruit, munching happily while  thinking, "Oh what luck for me to find such abundance of luscious fruit and to enjoy it in such a beautiful setting!"

 The vagabond devours the fruit and reaches for another, and then another.  As he finishes his third piece of fruit, something inside him begins to feel strange.  His stomach suddenly cramps and his limbs go numb with unyielding pain. The vagabond keels over and falls to the ground at the roots of the beautiful plant, reaching up toward the sun. As the numbness begins to spread and the pain starts to take over, the vagabond cries out in sorrow.  The farmer, hearing his cries, finds the vagabond bent over in agony and stares down at him without a trace of emotion.  The vagabond addresses the farmer with hateful remorse as he realizes he's dying:
"Pray tell Farmer, why would you plant acres of poisonous fruit and not warn of the dangers when you know quite well that men and animals frequent these lands?"
Without hesitation the farmer merely answers:
"What fate lies in store for the trusting fool who blindly assumes, without question, that all things are exactly as they appear to be."

“The power to question is the basis of all human progress.” ~Gandhi