The Poet, The Philosopher, The Producers.

The story of the metamorphoses from one to another and full circle.

Adesh Acharya

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Image generated by a stupid prompt in Midjourney.

First, there was the poet. Then the philosopher came and killed the poet. After that, the engineer killed the philosopher. Now, the businessman rules and has taken the engineer with him.

What am I talking about?

  • While this may seem like human history, this is actually my life’s desire story. Perhaps, the story of every human being!
  • I was first like a poet: Playful, Imaginative. Creative. Impractical. Explorative. Stupid. Emotional. Rebellious. Experimentive.
  • Then I grew up and realized with a harsh slap from reality that those characteristics were incompatible to my youth. They were giving me neither good grades, nor girls. They were giving me neither good career insights, nor social strategies. I had reached an age where social competitive achievement was everything if I had to survive and be strong and sane. This meant being mature. Playfulness was childish. Imagination was fruitless. Creativity was abstract. Being emotional was foolish. This meant I had to be practical. This meant I had to be rational. This meant I had to cultivate reason. This meant I had to be a philosopher. And I did. I killed the poet and became the philosopher.
  • The philosopher thought rationally about the things he should want in life and things he should do to get those wants. The philosopher questioned everything and mocked the poet for irrationality. The philosopher was rational, reasonable, pragmatic, curious, inquisitive. It liked creating concepts and ideas. All this meant, I had proper social vision and sense of things I had to do. I had friends. I was mature. I liked to show-off knowledge and social contacts with friends. I went through college. Was heading for a career. Was heading to get a girl that met all practical requirements.
  • Then I grew up further. I realized with a harsh slap from reality that those characteristics were incompatible to my adulthood. They were giving me neither good money, nor position. I had reached an age where social numbers were everything if I had to survive and be strong and sane. This meant being mathematical. Rationality was no longer important if it did not concern some sort of number. Concepts were not as important as graphs and charts; they were not as important as inventions. Nothing was as important as an equation! This meant I had to be scientific. This meant I had to be addicted to numbers. This meant I had to be an engineer. And I did. I killed the philosopher and became an engineer.
  • The engineer loved numbers in everything and looked everything in numbers. He liked to understand science and then create his own stuff based on his scientific knowledge. He laughed at the poet’s irrationality and cringed at the philosopher’s stupidity. The engineer was mathematical, numerical, graphical. He was an inventor. He liked to design and create things based on data. He liked to compare and analyze salaries, girlfriends, phone-prices, laptops, cars, followers, visas. All this meant, I had an ideal social viewpoint. I was driving society onwards. I was mathematical. I had great salary. I gave career and computer advice to laymen. The career was going awesome. The girl I liked also desired a six-figure income (Nepali Rupees).
  • Then I grew more. I realized with a harsh slap from reality that those characteristics were incompatible to my life. They were giving me neither power, nor prestige. I had reached an age where social status was everything if I had to survive and be strong and sane. This meant being an owner. Mathematics was no more important if it did not concern some sort of trend. Graphs and charts were not as important as balance sheets. They were not as important as revenue. Nothing was as important as the market! This meant I had to be powerful. This meant I had to do anything to be powerful and earn prestige and money. This meant I had to be a businessman. And I did. I enslaved the engineer and became a businessman.
  • The businessman loved perfumes and travels. Hotels and swimming pools. Suits and cars. He even learnt to play golf! He liked to understand the market. He put bank wallpapers on his cellphone. He exploited the poor old engineer and made great profit. He forgot the poet’s irrationality and spat at the philosopher’s stupidity. The businessman was smart, powerful, prestigious, popular. He liked carnal pleasures. He loved to make money. He was a producer. All this meant, I was in the perfect social position. I was ruling the society. I was king. The girls and boys around me kept wanting to be there.

Now, what?

BREAKING NEWS: The poet is back from the dead and he is coming to enslave the businessman!

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