Chaos of the sea (New Story) (realism vs idealism)
He stood stranded on the edge of a massive rock, waves crashing so violently they sprayed his face with salt and foam. Dressed in his favorite white t-shirt and red shorts, he turned to his friend and asked:
“Do you really believe we can be anything we want?”
Emy
She didn’t hesitate.
“No, I don’t. I think we inherit traits from our parents—things that shape our identity in ways we can't fully escape. They influence who we become, even how we think.
“Sorry, Max, but it is what it is. There's no such thing as real freedom—not freedom of speech, not free will. There are only facts, and people constantly influencing each other. Herd behavior—like sheep moving in a pack. Most of what we do is controlled by the subconscious.
We’re slaves in a world obsessed with labeling everything.”
Max
He suddenly screamed, his voice echoing off the rock:
“Then explain this to me, Emy! Explain the value of one moment—because right now, in this moment, I feel free. I can say whatever I want. I can do whatever I want. I could strip naked. I could criticize anyone.
One moment is enough to define a state of mind. Stop being so negative, Emy!”
Emy
“This isn’t negativity. Don’t be so naive, Max. One moment doesn’t change anything. Your thoughts—your so-called ‘freedom’—are shaped by how you were raised. By your parents, your school, your friends.
We’re surrounded by media, expectations, systems. Everything around us influences our choices, our desires, even our identity.”
The sunset began to paint the sea with soft orange and gold, waves calming with each breath. Max stood silently for a few moments, watching the sky burn quietly, then spoke:
Max (quiet, then with rising intensity)
“So you're saying a moment has no impact? You’ve clearly never heard of the butterfly effect.
One moment—like replying to a WhatsApp message—can save your life. That message might delay you just long enough to miss a taxi that would’ve crashed and killed you.
A single second can change everything.
So be grateful for the moment, Emy.”
Emy
“Please, Max—enough with the theories, the hypotheses, the dreams. Wake up to reality. Look at religious people—they’ve already surrendered their will to God. They believe that everything, good or bad, comes from Him. There’s no need to worry about the future, because to them, it’s all already written.
Their fear is rooted in punishment, or the idea of heaven and hell. But they’re calm, relaxed, because they’ve submitted everything. Sometimes, the soul needs that—something to believe in. Something greater than you.
Why do you need freedom anyway?”
Max
“Because it matters to me. I need to know that I’m free—that I can live how I want, be who I want, no matter the cost.”
Emy
“And what if the cost is loneliness, pain, and suffering?
Think carefully before you answer.”
Max
“Why should I sacrifice happiness and everything I am just to avoid suffering?
I only need a moment in the day to sit with myself and feel free.
To be me—even if just for a while.”
Emy
“And who are you, Max?”
Max
“That’s such a silly question. It’s not like I can define myself with a few words.
What I meant is… I want to feel peace within myself. To feel that I don’t owe anything to anyone. That no one is forcing me to live a life I didn’t choose.”
Max
“You know, Emy… I made myself—by myself. I had to filter through so much.
I questioned everything around me. I doubted every single piece of information I received until I reached a point where I could honestly say: I am free.”
Emy
“I wish I could be like you, Max. I envy you.
Yes, I’ll admit—sometimes it is nice to live as a believer.
To believe in yourself. To have faith that you can reach what seems untouchable.
Maybe some truths are found only from within.
Maybe it’s okay to go back and do things your way.”
Max
“I don’t believe in any god—but I believe you should be able to express yourself without fear of judgment. These days, judging each other has become people’s full-time job.
Based on your clothes, your looks, your phone…
It’s hard to hold onto values in a world like this.
So when I say freedom exists—you should believe me.”
Emy
“Are you the one white flower in an ugly field?”
Max
“We all have a dark side, Emy. Ugly thoughts. Shadows.
But the difference is—I see that side of me. I recognize it. And I choose not to act on it.
That’s freedom too.”
Emy
“Max… one last question.
What does it feel like—to be freely happy?”
Max
“It’s simple.
Happiness is relative.
A guy in Africa might bite into an apple and feel pure joy in that moment.
Meanwhile, someone else buys the newest phone and feels just as happy.
From the brain’s point of view, it’s the same level of happiness.”
Max (continuing):
“You choose how to be happy.
And you’re free to be happy in your own way.
Free your mind.
Live the way you truly want.
Forget about people’s judgments.
Value the moments. Reflect on your actions:
What am I doing? Why am I doing this? How should I do it?
That’s how you grow. That’s how you find your place.
Don’t let anyone control you.
Be free. Be happy.
Love everyone—and expect nothing.”
On that day, Max learned more about himself than he ever had before.
He gained faith in who he was becoming—and belief in his future.
In his ability to keep going.
Even though Emy was no longer by his side when he looked behind, she remained in his thoughts.
A part of him.
And maybe, she always would be.