There was One soul, split into many pieces.
Each piece lived in one day of this particular boy’s life.
At the age of 17,
The boy had two dreams every night.
The first dream, he had to wrestle with who he was yesterday. The second dream, he had to wrestle with who he would be tomorrow.
If he won, he would be able to wake up the next day.
If he lost, he found that he would repeat his previous day all over again.
At first, for many moons, there was luck and a gamble to decide who wins or who loses.
He soon found that training and working out would carry into the dream.
Training changed it. Perpetual growth.
Training strength, endurance, stamina, and other fortifying constitution helped aid his dream bouts. Yet with each dream, he faced stronger versions of tomorrow.
Soon after the boy turned 20,
He learned of martial arts, and through losing his dream battles and repeating his days, he became an expert in all the martial arts he took. Beating masters in technicality and using the right moves at the perfect times. All due to repeated efforts.
In a few years, he learned combat with weapons.
Soon he found that his dreams would supply weapons in the start. This made for more violent fights and bouts with himself. It would have been more decisive of a victory, if his future tomorrows weren’t as skilled as he was.
The knowledge and skill of Martial Arts became ingrained in him. He no longer relied on repeating the days to beat grand masters in all kinds of Disciplines. Instead, he sought for new disciplines and fought using only their styles and ways throughout the days.
He often wondered why he was meant to toil this cycle, and at the same time was reinvigorated by the thrill of the challenge, to beat himself.
All to see what the next day brings.
In the Age of the early 30’s,
His second dream was of a boy version of himself.
“are you tomorrow?” said the man in his dream
“Aye, I am.” said the boy
“Why are you a child? I do not grow to be you tomorrow” complained the man
“you do not yet know of the the power of dreaming” said the boy
The man was confused and readied his spear before proclaiming “Then I’ll make you into yesterday”
The boy merely shrugged and said “In a dream, you can be and do anything” before slowly turning into himself into a pitch black swirl and from it came a long serpent towering over the man.
The serpent said in an endearing tone “The future tomorrow’s call me The Wall”
And like that much time was spent overcoming the wall.
The man would read up on literature and mythology, to hear stories of Lovecraftian horrors and principles of designs to improve his imagination. Eventually, he would overcome The Wall. Yet he would have to invest more and more in knowing of cosmic beings, meditating and divining new creatures brought forth from the recess of his subconscious.
As the battles beyond the wall became more and more imaginary and fantastical, from mythical beasts to elaborate mazes and constructs filled with traps consuming eachother in endless maws- he grew older and older as the days went by learning more and more of the wisdom of the ancients.
Then came the age of the 40’s,
The man grew weary of the fights, what used to be fun the first countless times, became a chore the second countless times. After narrowly winning his first dream, he comes to his second to be met with himself and a long grey beard sitting at a table.
“Aren’t you tired of fighting” the old looking man calmly stated.
“Perhaps. we are seasoned warriors and monstrosities, all we’ve done is fight” replied the man.
“From now on, we do things with luck. We simply flip coins to see who wins or loses. The only rule is that we don’t cheat” said the old man.
“hmm. I guess I can understand that. I wouldn’t cheat myself” agreed the man.
“Just like a coin, there’s a fifty-fifty odd that you agree. Other times, you yesterday’s choose fighting instead. It seems this today is my lucky day” said the old man with a warm smile.
And like that, the man wrestled with himself in his dreams through time, first through strength, then knowledge, then wisdom, and finally through luck.
So should we contemplate how we make our dreams come true, combining our strength, our knowledge, our wisdom, and our luck.
Before you continue,
I’d like for you to parse your own meaning and metaphors from the story above. After having some thoughts of your own, I am going to give some takeaways that I found down below;
Each day, we grow better even by a mere 1%. Our only true comparison is to ourselves. Comparisons with others or coveting or jealousy is just disrespectful to ourselves and our past selves, as well as our future potentiality of ourselves. We should look towards others as an alternative path, as notes or clues and references, but our path is ours alone.
Often times, if we meet a challenge we can’t face, we repeat the mistakes of yesterday. Doomed to not see the brighter tomorrow until our lessons are learned or our debts are paid. Our debt being a form of wisdom or lessons or karmic bonds that attach us to repeat mistakes as if mistakes are a habitual thing for the learning curve in life.
Also, there comes a time when people grow to such a power and innate wisdom that they can write stories themselves. The world is shaped by stories, and the story tellers with the most (capable) followers are the most powerful.
Story tellers are also dream weavers.
Epilogue;
I wrote this in like 42 minutes while chilling in my bed at 3am on July 27th, 2024. No clue what this means, but I’m just going with it and sharing with the world by posting online.
I’m not sure if the age’s mean anything, probably just a way to help chronologically fit everything together. I imagine if you spent multiple eons repeating the same year, you’d probably lose track of time too. I imagine this boy/man would not operate through life normally, probably timing things to become something of a Warlord then Hermit. Not sure what they waking life would be like for someone who has everyday be ‘groundhog day’ until they achieved the right conditions to move onto the next day. It’s actually a really fascinating and depressing concept. I imagine losing to the future self many times would be disheartening for some versions of the soul.
And yea, I wrote this, but I can’t take credit, because I’m merely an instrument for this story that wants to come out. Think of it like, I’m the first radio that attuned to the right frequency to play the right notes and that is the story. Although the story is a bit unrefined and choppy, it’s the first of probably many iterations. Or atleast, to my knowledge in this timeline, it’s the first. Perhaps, perhaps not.
But also- I am totally taking credit because I posted it, -but also humbling myself, because the spark of genius isn’t mine alone. It’s in all of us. You just have to tune in to the right frequency and vibe to get the right rhythm and music. Your body is a temple, and so is your reality that you shape and allow to be. That sorta jazz.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this (I think) original story that came from the crux of laying in bed. Also, images were provided via WordPress’ AI feature.
Words Mean Things and that good old jazz.
Words Mean Things 
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