“What is a choice?”
“A choice is the path where a man takes full responsibility for himself.”
“Is it a choice that the man makes, or is it a choice that is not a choice?”
“Life comes from both sides.”
“And the gods called it our gift.”
“Time made men, and yet men made us their gods.”
After grey-eyed Athena left the lonely shores of Ithaca, Odysseus sat, eyes peering into the far horizon, thinking. He recalled the immortal goddess on her lonely shores. Now too with the flow of time he must endure the loneliness. What a great sunset, he thought. Once, when his comrades left him one by one, he had seen a sunset as lonely as this before.
Once he was young and strong and powerful, and the world was kinder. His idle life was filled with the familiar faces whom he loved, whom have loved him more than their own lives. And then one thousand ships called him onto his mission. A part of him longed to be with his beloved, yet a part of him longed to travel, to live a life bigger than his own, to sail across the seven seas and to drift his youth amongst the forgotten river before Hades made him his reign. So he left, when no disguise would change the mind of the raging Athenians, when nothing could be done to change the tide, his job was to be the hero.
And then… what then?
Every day it was the life of excitement. Yes, no doubt that there was danger, but he was not kind enough to let them down—he was resourceful, him, the only Odysseus whom the world knows him of his cunningness.
He sang with the stars and bargained with the gods. No one would question him, because he was the Odysseus on his famous journey. He knew, however, and only him alone, knew the dangers of the sea.
On the ocean, there can be no doubt. It is not a game, where one takes care of you when you are down. It is not a test, when chances are given repeatedly until you performed to your heart content. It is not melancholic, where in between the being and the not-being, you are honored of your thoughts. It is the time for reaction, and only reaction itself is the prove of your worth.
You do not aim towards the end, because death takes all ends.
You suffer for the journey, but the journey itself is the most fruitful.
That is, if you are brave enough to walk through it with your widened eyes.
Blind Tiresias saw, through his deceptive figures of the light and the darkness, and his knowledge of languages through the gift of the gods. And yet he never left his own being, as his gods-given presence are flawed to journey into the earthly affairs.
Take his advice but walk on your own.
It is the traveler that takes his aim.
His men left him and he alone, chose to return. Giving up his immortality, giving up his sky, only chose to be back. To see his only worth among the seven seas. The place where he grew up from, the place where he lived, the place where he is familiar with, his home.
And yes, it is a torture. All the mistakes come back to you when, in the time being, sitting alone on the shores of Ithaca, you would wish you were everywhere else but here.
Being king, and then being doubted as king. Being needed, and then being hated as needed. Being kind, and then regret everything you do while kind. React, and then being reminded that there is no need to react. They believe you are proud, because they know nothing that tames your mind. They want you here, so that they do not need you.
Like a school of sly fish they honor you with their rules, so that your mind distorts their idleness so easily that you imagine them chaining you up in the name of home. Vacation is over— he whispered to himself. The peacefulness sets him on fire, that depressing psychopath hiding under his archaic smile. It is not the smile of that responsible Athena.
Under the nine rings of hell only he would notice the immense sadness of the bloodless Achilles. His reign means nothing in the world of the dead; that famous rageful Achilles who set Troy in fire too, sought no escape in the realms of peace.
The wild torrent of the ocean calls him.
It does not call. Not always.
People call him a madman. That is because they do not see what he can see.
The world is beyond acknowledgement, with one decision leading to another. For generations they will call him the adventurer, because he has the dare that no one does. Only by throwing himself into danger will he stop that raging fire in his mind.
The question is, how?
He looked into the sunset, where the sun set fire across the worlds.
I need a ship. He thought, and he headed away from the city, deep, to find his worth in that shallowing woods.