Mr. Nobody’s (home) is full

Mr. Nobody’s full capacity would be of no more than one. However, there were many. Too many.

Mr. Nobody’s full capacity would be of no more than one. However, there were many. Too many. For this to be possible, they would agree on simple terms, non-negotiable, and despite agreed upon unanimity, not always protected by it’s signatories.

Terms would be known by all, made by the firsts, but specially important to the last. Even through crisis, it’s sacred status would remain held by them all. Therefore, the commom agreement would say that, if any of ’em kept hostage their oath, he who signed would be fairly… well, silenced.

The knowledge of it would be the mud that dragged the sinners, as the storm pushed ’em to scream and rebel, fight for the so desired place, and, unwittingly, disturb the holy composure that kept ’em safe. Their voice would never be taken, but the power of it would slowly fade, as it was secluded of the rest by its own scuffle to darker and farthest places. The process was relentless and bitter.

If the room would accomodate only one, they should all be reserved the right. Time should be approppriate to the occasion gave, and never more. The ultimate criteria for any judgement would live under the commom benefit, and the sake of their nights — they all feared their mind, and how it would behave during chaos.

Although disputed, the room had also its own charges. For some, it would dry everything they had, til’ they lost even the wit. Exhausted, these would prefer to rest under the dim, the comedy of it being they were needed much more often, and the others would summon them to the room again sooner than later.

The maze was complex and had its own secrets, but newcomers were always taken care approppriately. Through an almost mystic and fascinating sinchrony, the dynamic not always harmonic should keep on going. The stopless symphony of no one, “Mr. Nobody”.