Alcatraz: Heart—The Boss

Alcatraz: Heart—The Boss  
Lara’s heart was hurt by love as well as Lara herself. She listened her heart and heard the echoes of the sentence: “I am the boss!”  

Hundreds of dwarfs were carrying blood in their tiny buckets. In this big factory, there was recirculation all the time; the inside was cleaned with red water constantly. Machines in various sizes and gear wells were all around. At certain times the tubes were filled with food and dwarfs’ duty was to divide and arrange it. There was a separate section for the waste. The stomach’s rumble was heard much more intensely inside and the dwarfs sometimes dropped their buckets. 

All these processes were different in different beings. There were no interventions during the processes: they were all the product of a structured body. Even when a human slept, there was a light on in the boss’s room. The heart boss kept working all night, studying and reading. Research was going on all the time, printing of web pages and trying to understand the ego. The boss was looking for ways to reach the human. His duty was to provide the soul with essentials. From the moment he had been put in charge of the factory, all he had done was work, study and research. The heart’s only struggle was to put the factory’s learning to good use. Despite working for the body, in fact the heart was working for the soul, collaborating with the mind to produce new methods. 

The heart only smiled when the new methods were comprehended and internalized, otherwise the heart was worried. When there was a revolution on the left side of the breast, the body went on strike. When love came to someone, the heart either struck at the cause, making life miserable, or let the owner of the cause fall in love.  

Lara opened the letter from her heart. 

 You forgot about me. It has been days since you looked at your heart. I won’t expostulate, but I feel a little hurt. When you say to someone, “You broke my heart” it’s actually you who is breaking me. It’s you who hurts me most in this confined body. I beat in your name, but you take other steps. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow or a month or a year after you’ll hear me. You are afraid of death and say, “Don’t leave me, keep beating” which means you are aware of death. Yet you still ignore it. You plan your future even if you are not sure the future will come. Who do you hold onto when you are without a lifesaver in a sea of materials? Neither the sea nor the actions are yours.  

It’s only me taking steps. You need to take one too.

I’ll catch you. I promise to do that.

Don’t leave me alone in this borrowed body.

Your breathing gets less and less, so do you.

Please take a step to become more.

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