Reclusive Empire

I’ve always thought what would come would be a past time of my accomplishments that traversed the memories estranged by past vigor. Trigger passed down in one movement like an opera with too loud of a sonata screaming at full lungs petrifying the escaping thoughts. The shadowed darkness prolonged the early morning. Then on the off days your life turns for the better. The food explodes with flavor on every bite. The groove of the music aligns with your own heartbeat, stead the other way around. There aren’t voices screaming one over the other. You read a book for pleasure and not to improve. You find peace and quiet.

Yet to get here to this meditative equilibrium you had to ignore and leave the shared existence behind. Now you live alone in your own little tiny world unmoved by the brittle residents of the general population. Everyone else you ever notice, in accidental bumps, call outs, is a tourist to your empire. Some come illegally without your permission, others tend to ask first. You keep your population of one. Thinking here and there it could go to zero. Nice and clean. When you hear the whispers climb over the walls you’ve learned to retreat and rebuild. Lately your effort leads to walls made a little taller, wider, thicker. “Maybe add a lookout tower” an intrusive thought sneaks in but you reject it. New ideas bring unknowns, you don’t like unknowns. One of the founding rules was to retain what is as is. The reason you built it in the first place. Walls are invisible, one-way see-through. Others will see you can’t deal with that. They’ll star in various interests. Maybe you can deal with it with a peek back. If not a poke with a sharp needle will. Then no one will see what’s new in my secluded piece of land. I’ll protect my empire. I'll bathe in the blood for my sacred land.