CHAPTER 00

A/N: So the unanimous opinion was that the first few chapters of this fic heavily dissuaded readers from continuing reading. It was also advised that I should either delete or revamp the mentioned chaps but I just can't bring myself to do that. The simple reason being sentiment.

I just couldn't bring myself to thoroughly change it or reword it despite its heavy flaws so a little heads-up for those new to this fic. I just wanted you to know that the story picks up momentum after Chapter 13 - 14, so do try and stick around.

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CHAPTER 0

What denotes the term 'Life'?

A paradoxical question wherein the basis of all biological and most scientifically advancements were based on.

So herein lays the problem; what is such a thing doing in a college test?

While some might argue that such questions were made to stimulate the ever growing minds of young people, they somehow miss the fact that we were supposed to be learning from them, not trying to solve some millennial-long puzzle.

Of course, the so-called elders would take this as the ramblings of a 'typical millennial', but what can a man do if not fight against societal constraints. It might be the belated influence of what they called 'the rebellious phase' talking, but I differ. What a crass name for something as simple as 'independence'.

If there was something groundbreaking or revolutionary that I discovered, it was that names were important. Yes, a simple notion it is, but valid. If only simple things were all valid, oh how glorious would life be! 

When a child gets to their teenage years, a simple fact in science, both the brain and the body enters a state of growth where they grow the fastest. While the body settles in a state of need, in terms of nutrients, the brain adapts. It becomes easily influenced while also it starts exploring decisions and consequences. A contradicting method of growth, but one that works wonders. That's why kids grab a screwdriver and try to fix anything broken or open up something working. They become more inquisitive which leads to them making their own decisions, exploring consequences.

If all this is true then why coin such a prime state of learning with something as asinine as 'rebellious phase'.

Of course, some might argue back that said act of 'exploring consequences' was indeed rebellious but I digress! If that was true then the very act of learning and improvising of natural laws is nothing but a rebellious act.

The very action of man's exploration into the deep ocean or expedition in the wild is all an act of rebellion.

Hypocrites. The bunch of them.

But then again, why are we young ones grouped together with a dim expression during our metamorphous phase while their hypocritical actions are left unpunished, unblemished, and unanswered? 

It's simple really, just because we aren't as influential as them. A simple truth which no one wishes to acknowledge.

No matter how monumental they garnish the propaganda of 'we are the leaders of tomorrow', a brilliant slogan by the way, even more an excellent hoax, what they didn't mention was how we can't be the mentioned leaders until they let us.

Bastards they are.

They deserve to die for all the failed dreams of the bunch of us.

Ahem! Before I sidetrack…more, I believe our former focus point was what the blasted so-called "adults" called our representation of being.

Now, the warranted question is "why such a term"?

'The rebellious phase': something that speaks of a child's growth onto the fabled road of adulthood, yet was given a villain's appellation, a contradiction that is and isn't.

Just a name.

Yet an entire race of people, with a majority of the vast population, uses it to judge a child's craving for knowledge and exploration, with a term as brutish and bore as rebellion.

Adolescence: the growth of a child's body.

A wondrous term that explains such growth, and also showcases the hypocrisy of those before us.

Body and mind.

The ideal way of growth. The basis of evolution.

They focus on the word 'adolescence', simple, used to identify the hallmark of growth from the transitioning of a child to that accursed stage of life.

The Rebellion Phase: I grit my teeth at such appalling denotation. 

They just had to forget, nay ignore, that the benchmark for evolution starts from the mind then the body. 

While we are classified as Primates, the same with the monkeys, what actually differentiates us from our furry bipedal friends, is none other than our mental capabilities.

Mind over matter.

Even those old bones from the shaolin temples were right.

And yet, yet they still came up with a baseless term as 'millennial', using it to ascribe to us who broke out of the wretched circle they made for our comrades trapped.

Attributing the word for ideas, change, time, positivity and evolution to being lazy, lackluster and failling. Bravo! They had us good at that one. Word play at its finest.

We are in shackles, born from their very words, driven to live most of our lives in lies, scared of being branded with such a glowing name.

Scared of being centered during their regular meetings with their oh-so hypocritical friends.

But what about those of us who broke through? What about those who refused to be branded? Those who refused to be chained to their ideas?

We are free!

Cursed at, yes, but free.

Shunned. But free.

Being made an example of, seen as the rebel they made us to be, become the villains of the digital world, made us as monsters to their kids.

Oh the infamy!

But we won't change. No we won't.

We found Nirvana! Even if in a closed room without lights with nothing  but a TV in front of us, we found it.

Even if in a rundown shack in the middle of nowhere, we found it.

Even if on boxes of the divine delicacy known as pizza: We. Found. It!

Truth be told and known to a few; Life itself had no meaning.

A beautiful vase empty serves no purpose.

It was only when it was occupied does it serve a purpose.

The same with life and any of man's creation.

So why when we find meaning in our own existence in our own ways do they then reprove us? Each life can only be experience by a single individual, meaning each experience across our little green-land of marvels is different.

Each views diverse. Sometimes similar but unique. Allowing us an endless well of possibilities limited by our own mental capabilities.

Live and let live.

A great phrase with many an interpretation. 

To each his own: Representing the freedom of choice on how we live what little time has bestowed on us.

'Cause no matter how we live, fight or die, time still moves on. What little chance of choice we have trickle away from our grasp.

What little dream or grand ambitions we have either wither away or burn fiercely leading us all unto death.

Life without an end is the same as non-existence.

Death unto life is grace.

For what is reality without existence? Nothing.

Life: A paradoxical aspect of existence that births all possibilities. What then is our purpose with its gift? I reckon nothing.

Some may argue that the advent of life equals purpose but I disagree.

Life doesn't equal purpose. Nothing is equal to life except death. No riches, power, ambition or vision equals the phenomenon that births all things except that which ends all: Death.

Life doesn't equal purpose, existence does. But don't be confused, for existence is not the same as life.

A rock has no life but it exists therefore serves a purpose for whosoever finds it. The same with gold, diamonds and all the riches of man.

Just the fact it exists serves a purpose. Might be nothing on the grand scale of things but it still serves one.

Even man serves as prey to the beast of the wild. Ambitions matters not for we served them a purpose.

If that is true then why do I say our life itself is meaningless? Without purpose or meaning?

It is simply because we alone can give life meaning. By finding our own self-inspired purpose, we give meaning to the relic known as life. Which is why a sentient mind is the hallmark of evolution and why we are the highest on the evolutionary chain.

Draul Saint Cross.

A Young Man's Take on Life. 

***

*Sigh*.

Letting out a long sigh sat a man of average stature, black curly hair, black droopy eyes, a lean build and an average height of 6'1 inches. Taking a look at the paper in his hand, which is easily identified as a high-school test sheet, he drawled out another sigh.

A man of regrets he was. 

He took another look at the sheet in his hands and couldn't help but feel a pang of regret in his heart.

He was free when he was young, never letting anything come between him and his dreams. He worked towards it with fervor and devotion, never straying from his path no matter what, never letting himself be strained down.

He could argue that he was more focused than all his peers, more head-on in challenges, that's why… he achieved his dreams.

He achieved his dream! Where 70% of the world's population couldn't even achieve their childhood dreams he achieved his.

The cause of his regrets.

His dreams, the doom of his existence. 

But what was the problem with his dream? He couldn't help but wince at the subconscious question because the answer was something that drove him to a spiral of regrets.

He dreamt of nothing.

He pursued nothing. No goals, no ambitions, no aim. Nothing.

And he achieved it.

At that thought he couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. He became what he sought to be and all he had was regrets.

He could remember Old Man Lou down the street during his teenage days telling him something about 'Dreaming big but aiming low'.

It was better to have the world at your fingertips…but only in your mind… aim low to get a clearer vision.

He could remember arguing back, one of the only things he was good at, at Old Lou along the lines of 'Grand glory was every man's dream', which Old Lou laughed at.

'To get good at shooting your targets, one takes aim several times' was all Old Lou would say anytime he countered him.

Remembering it now left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

Bitter because his dreams amounted to nothing.

Sweet because he achieved his dreams; as foolish as it sounds.

He looked out his windows, staring at the skies, tuning all the lights and sound from his brain as he focused on the bright sky.

He focused, not knowing what he was expecting or if he expected something. He didn't believe in miracles so he didn't expect anything. 

All he wished was to go back and tell his younger self to aim again. He could achieve nothing if he wanted to… a truth he knew far too late.

If he could take aim again he was sure he could achieve it the same way he achieved his dreams. He would be able t…

He was tired.

Tired of dreaming.

Tired of regrets.

Tired of trying.

He was 40 now and damn was he tired.

No more were there dreams to be had or goals to be reached…not at his age no.

Maybe he could a few years back but no more.

Even if he was allowed to dream now, he wouldn't dream of anything grand. Maybe a little day job or a shop with a lovely wife if he could. He still got his tongue so he could get a wife if only he wasn't deep and under.

But he was just too tired.

The dreams wouldn't end if he kept dreaming so he just stopped.

Better to end it now as there was nothing to be had than regret all till he met his end.

No more grand illusions to be seen, no more ambitions to be stoked, no more thoughts of greatness. No more.

Trailing his eyes downwards, he looked at the bustling streets and its vibrant folks. Maybe they too had dreams and were pursuing it or maybe, and most likely, they settled for a better second hence the smile on their faces and the carefree gait in their walks. Or maybe they just settled for their measure of life's serving.

They still had dreams, the lot of them, but did they know what was at its end? …no.

They did. Or rather they knew the consequences of if they didn't. He did achieve his dreams didn't he? He only wasn't aware of the consequences so he had no right to pity them.

To each his own.

Maybe he just had to let go, all of his regrets, restraints and bitterness let gone before it took whatever was left in his husk of a soul. 

 He had his ride, a glorious one it was even if not, maybe it was time, rather than hitting the brakes, to come to a full stop. He had his fun while it lasted but there was only so much time to spend dreaming. Maybe it was high time to live his life… or what remained of it. 

He took one last look at the dimming skies and the people down below before he let out a sigh of resignation. 

No matter what anyone said about him, he won. Fulfilled his dream he did, beat the odds he did and he came out victorious even if the endgame wasn't what he hoped it'd be so he figured now was a good time if any to just settle down, ironic how that sounded. He'd just spend whatever decades he had left on the couch with ham and cheerios. 

Yeah. Today felt like a good day to start a new chapter. 

With that he reclined on his couch as he let his mind drift into the past and sort things for his future self.