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  • Writer's pictureSkye Cabrera

The Naive Man's Last Diary Entry

Dear Reader,

There is something inherently wrong with all the human beings inhabiting this world. A flaw, if you will, that exists in each and every one of our souls. And no, I don’t mean it as a bad thing. Wrong doesn’t necessarily mean bad, like how right doesn’t necessarily mean good. We are all flawed creatures living in a flawed world. And that's the beauty of it all. Every single person you interact with is bound to be imperfect. You are imperfect! I, myself, am imperfect! We can all relate to one another in our shared experience of being imperfect. This is why, my dear reader (I’m not telling you all of this for nothing!), let me tell you of a cautionary tale, set in a world not so far away, in a time not so long ago, about a man not much of a stranger who can’t seem to accept this poetic fact.

To tell you this fable, let me first introduce you to the protagonist. Let’s call them "Naive!" Though they are both of the same nature, they are not to be confused with the English word "naive," which means "lack of experience, wisdom, or judgment." Little to no words can be used to describe Naive. They’re organized, rigid, structured, and, most of all, plain.

Everything a man living in the capitalistic society of the 21st century should and needs to be. However, to say they are happy would be a lie. They don’t know it themselves, but they are extremely lonely. A bird: unknowingly trapped in a cage, forever unable to fly away from its imprisonment. Inadvertently, the only way out is to notice that the latch is open. It just needs a little jiggling. However, it’s hard for a simple bird to notice such an opening when all its life it has been forced to look away. To believe that no, the cage or the latch isn’t the problem, they are. They need to fix themselves. Be a better man, employee, etc., and then they will be happy. Then they would start to accept that maybe, just maybe, it’s better to stay imprisoned. Because all one needs to have is perfection. Not love! Or relationships, or hobbies, or a soul. When you can be perfect, who needs this stuff anyway? What kind of a man accepts the fact that he is a human — not an unattainable, all-knowing, and perfect god? Nobody! No one in this god-forsaken world would accept that.

People live in such bliss, just like Naive, that they are gods of their own lives. They are able to control themselves and everybody else towards their shared mission of being perfect. However, just like every other tale of a man challenging god, it doesn’t end well. Naive, just like most "perfectionists" (though, dear reader, let me admit that I hate this word more than anything), will end up living a quote-on-quote perfect suburban life, then die a meaningless death. I don’t mean to be blunt or scornful, but I only deliver the partial truth. Once we start living a life with meaning rather than perfection, we can all escape this cage we continually force ourselves into. With pleading prayers, I say this: I hope that at least one of you naive citizens of the world will start to accept that fact and finally experience your life. Have the wisdom to be your own person. And lastly, judge your life with your own measures of success, not others'.

But alas, I didn’t mean to preach or act like I was better than everybody else. Especially when I am blinded by the societal expectation of being perfect. When I am naive. Just another lost human trying to regain their soul. Let me be the cautionary tale, dear reader. Let me live in your memory as the man you dread being. Truly, I may have been close to perfection all my life, but I haven't lived a day.

With love,



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