Being the richest and most powerful man
on Earth he thought exclusivity his due. He built a city where he
alone could afford to live. He called his new home Solitaire because
he was all by himself there. He was happy there and thought he'd
rather be nowhere. He was the envy of everyone everywhere.
****
The streets of Solitaire were so clean
without people. So very nice and quiet. No conflict. None of the
coercion of collectivism. No ideologies being dreamt up to seduce or
disturb him. Just mellowness. What was there to miss? He had all the
amenities and none of the enmity. He had unity, true unity, the unity
of one. It was a kind of capitalistic Zen. His sense of self
permeated the whole place. If Solitaire was a tuning fork it would
have sounded out his name and vibrated with his psyche alone.
Wherever he went, he was there. It was lovely. Others had always
frustrated him with their inefficiency and begrudgery so he had
worked and earned and invested and traded until he was free of them.
Now he could live in a utopia based on love, love for oneself. In
fact, he married himself. He rented the function room of the big
hotel he owned from himself and had a lovely service where he pledged
to honour and obey himself. Then he put a ring on himself and kissed
himself and applauded himself. He was best man too. He also
officiated and gave himself away to himself. It was a great day and
afterwards he brought himself on honeymoon around the corner to
another part of Solitaire where there was an artificial beach that
was better than the real thing because there were no people there or
creepy fish in the water, just flowing crystal chlorine and the sound
of his echoing laughter. After the honeymoon he returned to his
penthouse that overlooked the whole city and carried himself over the
threshold. Well, that wasn't quite possible so he just kind of
wrapped himself in his own arms and skipped over the threshold
instead. In any case, it was very romantic. How happy he was, for a
while at least.
Over time, the magic often goes from a
marriage and his was no exception. He grew bored of himself, his
little habits and routines. Whereas once he thought it magical that
he knew what he was about to say, he now found it tiresome. The
predictability of himself drove him to distraction. He also stopped
making love himself and as a consequence felt both revolted and rejected by himself.
Once again, he was alone but, unlike other couples, he could not
separate. He couldn't even sleep in a different room.
There was only one thing for it, an
extreme action but he would take it. He plotted to murder himself. He
hired himself to assassinate himself. He
thought everything would go to plan as long as he didn't find out but
then he realised he knew. Foiled. Furious. Frustrated. He had only
one option left. He had to just put a brave face on it. To try and
think positive. To remind himself that he was the envy of everyone
else. And that was when he started to miss other people. He missed
their envy. He realised that this was what made him feel valid. Envy and another thing. A murky thing that was gradually making itself known by its absence. A vague thing that could only be found in other people. Other people - they had ruined things again and they didn't even have to be there to do it. He cursed other people because he needed other people. What was he without other people? Nothing. He was nothing and in Solitaire
he was nowhere. He longed to be somewhere else. Where the rest of us
are.
But to return to the land of others
would be to admit failure. Although he wanted nothing more, the shame
would be too great. He pinned a final note to the rail of his
penthouse balcony before leaping over it. His last hope was that he'd
find the note and understand it as a warning to himself not to end up
as he did. Of course, he didn't consider that he would never get to
read the note on account of him being a crumpled heap on the plaza
below. The note is still there now, flapping in the breeze, its inky
words fading, destined to remain unread and saying the following -
'For now we see only a reflection as in
a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I
shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three
remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.'
