Ever so tired of the glorious sunrise, Arachnid wearily rose to the day’s light that flooded his condominium. The view of the city from the 15’th floor was breathtaking to most people, but he, however, had grown tired of the nuisance of its existence. The windows were wonderfully cloaked by night, yet at the same time every day, precisely 8:15am; the curtains would open, shoving the day’s hopelessness into his hollowed heart. Ambushed incessantly by the thoughts of work, there was no way to avoid the intense irritation that one would indeed feel. He was not a morning person.
Given such a spiteful name, he had lived through life with the feminine nickname “Ara”. He would prefer “Rach” or “Nid” or “Ned”. Something that would signify the normality he had naturally achieved. He lived his life quite the normal way; a regular child at kindergarten with no trouble whatsoever. His grade school life was nevertheless a decent one, with the same normality as the millions of others whose norms were defined by the schools, marketing, and the so called “education system”, which, he had always thought was not meant for the betterment of the child but rather for the betterment of the companies and the society as it was as of that generation. Of course evolution came, and just like a natural being, Ara had undergone the same changes a teenage regular would have had gone through. A spike in emotion here and there and the relatively promising slur of self-made and self-proclaimed poetry. His first failure, and his almost-honourable-mention level, as well as his first emotional awakening with regards to the other gender, all corresponded to that moment in time; wonderful oblivious delight. College was the usual, no fraternities, not many parties, and a rough 50% less amount of women and “consummated” relationships. Tediously overcome, it was, as the countless supportive friends would claim, “well worth the trouble, and well worth the wait”.
With a simplistic sense of thought and reactions, he would have been just fine. However, this was not the case. He had inadvertently picked up a book, entitled “Sunrise”. It broadened his scope of the world, causing him to think of such norms as uncomfortably common. It made him believe that he needed a sense of individuality to actually survive this world as a struggler, a hero in the eyes of those who would realize in the near future, and that he was happy. Of course, being in the pursuit of happiness would not be as easy as it sounds, and honestly, as his experience claimed, not as hard as it looks. Happiness was where discomfort was. Happiness was where he realized that he was better, a deeper thinker, and generally a demigod in the Pantheon of Thought, compared to the simpletons whose miniscule worships to the Lord of Thought were incomprehensibly minute compared to that of his. He believed that his cause was just, that there was a need for education, deeper thought, and the mental awakening that had been brought about, by this book; “Sunrise”.
(c) Anachronic Works 2011