Once upon a time, a giant king ruled these mountains. He was gentle they said, but once angered he would go into this rage that wouldn’t subside until what angered him was gone from this earth. So, he made it a point to never speak unless it would improve on the beauty of silence. A vow kept that inspired those beneath him to aspire to his greatness. Words have power and using your power without a goal or clear focus can bring forth doom not only to you but to those around you as well. For you attract the energy that you are. And what you are is guided by what you say.
The King knew that and the people who met him knew that as well.
The King didn’t suffer fools. Merely being in his presence required you to read the 25 great books of that era. All nonfiction and all of them are at LEAST 1000 pages long. The king was not joking about his books. So, you can imagine that not many would meet the King. Which was perfect because then not many could anger the King. It was a good deal. But there were these dragons that heard about the benevolent King and didn’t like the fact that he was as big as them. The King had horns on his head, just like how some dragons have horns. The King wore this scale armor, similar to the skin of dragons. The dragons felt like it was cultural appropriation. Yes, even mythical beasts got lost in the gobbledygook which is known as claiming something that they can never own.
The dragons were amazingly well adept at magic and using the natural forces of the world to get their way. They summoned beasts, demons, devils, and even this white lady called Karen. She was without a doubt the worst of them all. But the dragons inspired other beasts with horns and scales to join in on the summoning. All in an effort to destroy the king. The only problem was that their magic couldn’t reach the King. Because he was protected by his barrier of knowledge and understanding of self. But through sheer force and numbers, the angered beasts cracked the barrier. The King now forced to engage with these dragons and sheep was dumbstruck by their inability to convey a coherent point. But he tried to understand their point and had they asked the King to change his attire instead of using brute force, he would have simply done as they asked. But pride sleeps in even the most benevolent of kings. They argued, screamed, threw things, and accused each other of not understanding one another. And it was then that our hero appeared. He looked at the dragons and the King arguing for days. Mesmerized by the sheer passion with which each party was arguing their point.
The King caught a glimpse of our hero and craved another’s opinion. He asked our hero what he thought about the dragon’s foolish claims. Our hero looked at the king, tilted his head, looked down, and whispered “I’m sorry, I try not to engage in negativity like this”. The King had amazingly big ears, so he heard that. Our hero couldn’t tell who was right or wrong, but what he truly meant was that he couldn’t tell which one of the two was more negative. This hurt the King deeply. But he had no place to direct his anger but at himself because he was the one who engaged. Never before had the king been angry at himself. He got so mad, all the energy he would usually disperse, pent up inside of him. It created a black hole inside the King, and it swallowed him whole. Pride and foolishness stand beneath the same star as they hold hands. The King’s chair still sits amidst the mountains, as a reminder that sometimes it’s best to choose your mental health over your need to engage. That is what these mountains are trying to say.
