Last night I had a dream that I was placed in a society where the thinkers of the world were placed in different rooms according to their positions in society. I felt confused, lost, and afraid, but I was thrown into the room with the large sign above it reading “Instigator/Communicator”. My comrades were familiar, but distant in their own regards. We were the revolutionaries of the space.
Come nightfall I found this situation to be displeasing and escaped from my cell. Another individual rose from the barracks and asked me where I was going. “To explore,” I replied.
I passed many rooms and the names of many have now faded from my memory, but one sticks out in particular: “The No-Thinkers”. In this room were the members of society that cannot make clear-cut decisions and have nothing in their head worth contributing. I received this information from a nearby guard of the room. He told me they were better off dead.
The room was slightly smaller and reasonably less luxurious than the once from whence I came. Several men were laying head to head along the floor while the women slept against the back wall.
“I need to act fast I think. She’ll be gone soon,” said a young man with bushy hair on the ground.
Some animal instinct within me was awoken and I rushed over to the gentleman. I grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground.
“When you find this girl you’re talking about, you treat her with respect. She is a human being. You treat her like she is the best thing to come into your life because there will be a time when she is not in your life whether that be tomorrow or fifty years from now.”
Some more when into my impromptu act of aggression. I tossed him onto the ground and recognized one female in particular. He was clearly talking about the one I knew. The one I couldn’t have. These people were doomed.
I stepped out of the room to find the other instigators standing before me. They wanted out of this place. It dawned on me through some strange internal monologue that there can be no such thing as a No-Thinker. The absent-minded individual will find himself/herself with nothing to say or nothing to contribute to conversation, but we all know the quietest ones are indeed some of the deepest thinkers. Or maybe I am making too broad a generalization given my own experiences. My case stands as such:
Everyone has a voice.
After some riots and acts of violence we were out of the compound and crossing a body of water someone had referred to as the “Bermuda Triangle”. The same man tossed a dime into the water.
“We’ll never see that again. We’ll never see here again. We’ll never see each other again.”
One by one we jumped in making sure we were safe. I was second to last. I looked back to make sure we were all gone and in the distance stood the No-Thinkers. They had followed us.
There the bushy haired boy stood with his hand holding hers. He deserved her and it was time for me to get lost again. To move on to a new adventure.
I swam further and further, but found it difficult. I was drowning. The other swimmers grabbed hold of a rope tossed by those standing on the shore. I couldn’t reach it. I sank.
I woke up.