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The BoxSaad Manasterli, Staff Writer

s.manasterli@anmag.org

Fairfax, Virginia. As I sit here in my sized up cue of an ancient method of isolated

!or", I #uggle random ideas occurring aout the !orld in the same manner that Iha$e tried to do efore % out of the ox. I dance among the restless thoughts thatlay in my head. I t!ist and I turn I fall and urn, ut I ne$er learn. Where is said

ox& Why is it that I and !e are all afraid of eing inside of, or near it& What is the

ma"e and model& Who is the "eeper of this ox& Are !e all "eepers of the ox,aren't !e all technically our rothers "eeper, sorry ladies, let me clear my throat(

Aren't !e all our rothers and sisters "eepers after all. So this ox that !e "eephung around our nec"s(is it the same model of ages ago or has it had the

automagically updated patches for our operating systems, and !ill it e the samemodel for years to come& )ersonally, I thin" that the ox is !here !e put all of our

hopes, fears, !hat*ifs, desires, unans!ered +uestions, the o#ects of our denial,unfound lo$es, unclaimed lo$ers, untamed others. But the +uestion still remains the

same, you and I oth "no! that there is no escaping the ox, you can al!ays hide or

put these unnamed o#ects in it, ut you must rememer that the ox is notottomless.

ou reap !hat you so!, that's !hat they say, you get !hat you put in it, and that isstill the same to this day, except the time ridden and foridden facing of the truths

!e "eep ultra*hidden. Three years ago it came to a culmination. It seems that thefields !ere ready for the pic"ing and !e !ere the hired help. It !as time to so! the

oats of our negligence and nai$ety. The !orld that is us !atched in amazement atour -shoc" and a!e as !e stumle through life clueless to the reality that !as and

is to come. The crop had a cost and a hidden $alue to !hich end !e ha$e yet tosurmise. /ree the hea$y urden and your shoulders !ill rise again and !ith it your

anchor, your mind. ou're free to mo$e along !ith the rest of your faculties lierated.

The ox !ill ne$er extinct ecause !e ha$e ecome accustomed to feeding it our

soul and ecoming empty shells of our former sel$es, hence it then ecomes ourmaster. So that I guess ma"e the ox the "eepers of us, and !e are hung around the

nec" of this ox of our fears, it has the le$erage re+uired for us to sumerge ourheads and li$e shameful of !ho !e are and !hat !e are and all that !e as

indi$iduals are really all aout. The le$erage that the Box has o$er us is so po!erful

that it forces you to your "nees the moment that you realize !hat you ha$e eendoing for ages and ages and ages, and collapsing ad rea!a"ing only to realize that

!e go ac" to the ox li"e fly are attracted to light and al!ays seem to find theirdemise. Is it too late to reco$er form this demonic east&

The urden is hea$y for those that !ish to carry it. And yet the itch of a ystander

that -"no!s #ust ho! things should e lends no helping hand0 The !orld seems soclear to them !ith their asolutes and solutions that ta"e out e$ery human element,

yet they call themsel$es -participants, ut participants of !hat might I as"&

I ha$e een laying my eggs in this ox for years, and no! at the age of t!enty*se$en, !ait I lied, t!enty*eight. I !onder !hat I ha$e in there1 !hat ha$e I stored

a!ay for all of these years, and do I actually !ant to find out. Becomes a "idnapping,and !e are the "idnapped, and !ith time as a catalyst, !e in turn egin to suffer

from.

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I find that the truth is al!ays #ust under the surface. Al!ays !aiting for that scratch.

I, find that the !orld is imploding on its o!n emotional plane. I, spea" from !ere Istand, and that at times seems to e +uic" sand. And I dream of telling that tale

!hich says it all and puts e$ery li$ing creature at ease. I spea" !ith a languagemade simple. I spea" simply, only to imply that not all con$ersations are as

excruciating as they might appear.

I rememer once eing ale to leap to great heights. I used to stretch my arms out

and soar into oli$ion, into asolution, into the di$ine, into myself, into you, into

nothing. I rememer ho! that empty space et!een the earth and I used to feel. Iam no! a Man and the earth feels rough and #agged. The !ind that once lifted me

up to the heights, no! lasts me !ith particles of ci$ilizations past. 2e$er !ere !e toroam this(

Alone once againTo!ards nothing, ut my o!n sin

3irtue is not of itself

4ea$ing me nothingBut myself

T!isted morals, all sha"en up

Stirred and pounded into a cupA cup that is of me

5ust !aiting for that special timeThat special moment

That I get ser$ed as a special drin"

** Saad Manasterli