Utopia
The Seed Perfection peeked from the corner of the eye, its chin raised just a few inches, silent. No words were exchanged yet Next Best turned left and right, unsure. Next Best thought of itself as enough, but with just one look Seed Perfection made it wonder what was enough. Next Best looked around: the report it just handed over, the pictures it took with the camera while it was still learning how to use it, the used cosy couch which it renovated some time ago.
Next Best turned to haughty Seed Perfection and said:
“You are nothing, just a tiny seed, with nothing to show for yourself, you don’t exist but in dreams.”
Passionless Seed Perfection turned to reply.
“You are wrong. I can grow large and tall, beautiful and rich. I have the potential of entire worlds within me. I AM whatever you want to be. While you…will never experience the exhilaration of being me. You’ll always scramble to reach even the lowest slope, and if you ever become a few inches higher than you are now, you dirty fingernails are a reminder of where you come from.”
“I can clean my fingernail, and you know why? Because I can decide to do so even if I have no water. But you…you can stay thirsty and dry out, if you have not a can of water nearby. A day without water, and you shrink like the wrinkled skin of a methuselah.”
“Perfection is demanding, and of course, to you, accustomed to give up easily, being thirsty must look like a great sacrifice.”
“It is a worthless sacrifice. I choose life. I choose creation. For in the end, I am thousand times more of a creator than you are, sterile Perfection. Mark my words: Next Best is a creator,” and it got up to move on to the next task.
Years later, Next Best met Seed Perfection again. After all those years, Seed Perfection had a meagre stem with two tiny buds, which struggled to open up, until one day Next Best saw they were no more. It was a sad moment. After all, the stunning beauty which never reached out to the world, was impressive. Next Best knew he maybe was just a fraction of all the potential Seed Perfection enclosed in its being, but underneath its own fulfilment and joy filled the world with life and Seed Perfection, in all its accomplishment, could have never come up with enough words to describe the intensity of its soul.
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