Philosophical Short Stories – Page 2

The Soldier

The soldier walked back home. Home… such a distant memory. It has been so long since he last came here. He stepped up to his front door. He stared blankly at it, unable to make a move. Should he knock, or should he enter? Does he still belong here? Is he still welcome?

***

He spent his life with the army. Fighting wars upon wars. Defending the helpless. Attacking the corrupt. The strong always preyed on the weak. He had to be strong for them. No one else could. No one else would. However, the wars never stopped. The corruption spread. Was he making a difference or were all of his efforts pointless?

***

He entered. His family rejoiced; tears in their eyes, smiles on their faces. They embraced him, as a savior, as a revenant. They had changed. Everything had changed. They were old. Wrinkles cracked on their faces. He did not know them anymore. Had he changed also? Was this is real family?

***

He had made his own family in the army. Brothers in arms. He would sacrifice anything for them as some did for him. Their memories would never fade from his spirit. Scars that would never heal. A brotherhood of selflessness and sacrifice.

***

He tried to make a living but he didn’t know how. He had learned so many skills, yet none of them were of any use to him. This society had so many rules and restrictions; things he had forgotten over the years.

***

Rules don’t apply to soldiers. Rules get you killed in war.

***

His friends found love and founded families. He envied them. He did not remember how to fall in love. His friends had it all figured out. The soldier had never felt so alone.

***

A soldier could not love. Love was weakness. A soldier could not be loved as he could not keep promises.

***

He felt constricted by time. Time he had used on a pointless venture. Time he wished he had spent on himself as all others seemed to do. He still could not find a purpose to guide him. Something that would drive him. He was haunted by his past, tormented by his troubles, sadened by loneliness and pressured by his lost time.

***

He quit the army. Hoping to find a new purpose. Hoping… that it was not too late.

***

Still, the soldier searches… for a goal, for something to bring him happiness, to bring him closure. He knows he will find it. All he can do is rise from this point. In his heart of hearts, he knows he willd still amount to greatness.

Time

Image result for time fading

Have you ever felt as if you we’re standing still, captivated by an influx of missed opportunities?

I am standing tall, above myself, a god of my own choosing, a maker of my own reality. I have all this power, yet I do not have the strength to move… to act. I have lived. I have learned. I have smiled and I have cried. However, when I remember the past, I do not recall these moments. I can only consider what I have missed, what I should have done. Is it regret that restrains me?

Time may be infinite, but mine is not. I feel as if I have wasted so much of it. It is a heavy concept that weighs on me. As I mature and tend to make better decisions or seize better opportunities; time seems to move faster out of spite. As if it relishes my misery. As if it does not want to give me a try at happiness.

I look around and see all these happy people, gods of their own little worlds. Why don’t they worry and regret? Have they made all the right choices? Are they immortal?
Why can they enjoy their time when I cannot? What do they have that I do not? What do they know that I do not…

Here I stand, wasting my time thinking of wasted time. Withering away with grief. I am missing something. Some piece of information that may guide me to happiness. Something that others have found but still eludes me. Will time, in all its spite, give me respite. How much time will it lend me to find this missing piece?

How much time will there be left for me to enjoy it?

The Magician

The street was barred by a mass of people. My first thought, egotistical as it may sound: Damn, I’m gonna be late again. I never bothered to wonder why this mass had gathered. I simply hated them for depriving me of my normal routine.

I pushed and shoved through the crowd. They clamored and cheered, barely noticing the angry man amidst them. I finally dug through them and viewed what entertained them so.

He stood tall, wearing a classical black tuxedo enriched with a dark bow-tie. His charisma was mesmerizing. He performed a magic trick, then another, and then another. Time stopped. He had caught my undivided attention. His hands and his mouth told a story to captivate his audience. Conversely, his eyes told another.

What is the future of a man that has fulfilled his dreams? Most kids dream of becoming a magician and this showman had become one of the finest. Well known and rich; what else could he reach for, strive for. What happens once we’ve accomplished all our goals? This man must be the saddest among all of us, yet his eyes showed no sign of sorrow. They glimmered with… hope?

Then, as if to answer my unending questions, he showed me what he had chosen to do with his life. He pointed to someone in the crowd. A young kid advanced eagerly to meet him. The magician gave him one of his deck of cards. He whispered in the child’s ears. He told him how to perform one of his tricks. A smile grew on his face. It spread. It was contagious. I had never seen such jubilation in a child before. The crowd cheered and applauded. I heard a sound come from my lower body: “clap” “clap”. There I stood. The angry man, clapping, smiling… happy.

If you’ve accomplished your goals and think that you’ve completed your journey. Do not despair. Do not stop searching. You can always find solace in generating happiness around you, in helping others achieve their own dreams.

The Right Path

I feel lost in darkening woods. Dimming moonlight shines through branches. Many paths lay before me and within them, trails begin without end. My eyes flicker. They are all so beautiful. My gaze turns from one to the next. An array of choices lay before me.

I stare at the first, to my left. I suddenly feel empowered; confident. As if I could accomplish anything. I sense that pride and self-accomplishment stand at the end of this path, yet loneliness is there also.

I gaze at the second; many trails spread from this one, small and big. All of them assorted with specific values paired with emotions. A path of selflessness. Generosity and happiness; education and fulfillment; learning and growth; exploration and fascination; activities and joy. However, loneliness still stands in the distance. His arms welcoming me.

I look at the last, to my right. It is by far the most beautiful. Colors I have never seen; indescribable. They seem to come together and intertwine. I feel overwhelmed by happiness and comfort as if I would not be alone if I were to walk this path.

I am submerged with hesitation; What if I can never turn back? What if forgotten choices offered more? What of my wasted time and efforts? Doubt haunts my decision. I close my eyes; take a deep breath. Conviction guiding my steps, I enter the third path. Not with hope for hope does not promise happiness. I will never know if this path was the best amongst my choices. Yet, I do not regret my decision. I have chosen the third path for whatever may lie ahead, I will not face it alone. If sadness, disappointment or remorse were ever to torment me, I would simply have to stare into its beauty to make them go away. I have choses the third path, because I have already decided that I will make my own trails in these woods. I will not abide by their laws. However, I know that if I am ever lost, I will always find those beautiful colors in the darkness.

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