431_Socialism Removes Motivation

431-How Socialism Removes Personal Choice and Spiritual Motivation · Crysticism 431

Chapter 1: Lord Blue and Sir Gray Debate the Concepts of Socialism and Equality

As Evan, Abby, Diesel, and Rev listen, Lord Blue and Sir Gray debate the concepts of socialism and equality in the classroom. This ideological clash over resource distribution quickly sets a heavy tone for the day's lesson. The lecture hall does not feel right today.

Most days, the walls shimmer with soft blues and golds—the colors of calm and wisdom. Today, some other shade creeps in—a storm‑cloud gray drifts across the ceiling, thick and heavy, like smoke that refuses to rise.

Evan, Abby, Diesel, Rev, and a few dozen other students shift in their seats. Their auras flicker in restless colors as they settle. Screens dim. Side conversations fade to a low buzz.

At the front of the room, Lord Blue stands with his hands folded, ocean‑colored cloak flowing quietly around him. Beside him stands a taller figure in sharp slate robes—edges crisp, expression impossible to read.

“Today’s guest is Sir Gray,” Lord Blue says.

A ripple runs through the room. Gray is not a color anyone here connects with hope.

Sir Gray steps forward.

The air thickens.

A cool, heavy pressure presses against the students’ chests as if the room itself holds its breath.

“Socialism is a superior system that strives for equality by any means necessary,” Sir Gray says. His voice is smooth, confident and almost soothing. “It is unfair for the hardworking wealthy to live in comfort and luxury when the unemployed live in deplorable conditions.”

Holographic images flicker above his hand: mansions and slums, private jets and jam‑packed buses, polished kitchens and food lines that snake across cracked streets.

“The goal is to raise the living standards for those uninterested in working,” Sir Gray continues. “Everyone is created equal and deserves a community that treats them equally, regardless of behavior, attitude, or demonstrated abilities. Workers may have few rights, but they receive an equal share of the abundance produced by the entire community. The whole community takes over managing production and equal distribution.”

Lord Blue’s aura shifts, blue light wavering.

“In reality,” Lord Blue says quietly, “few are qualified or interested in the responsibility of management positions.”

Sir Gray does not blink.

“The self‑established government makes most major decisions to relieve workers’ stress,” he says. “There is no poverty in socialism—unless there are insufficient resources to distribute, due to a lack of qualified, motivated workers.”

His gray aura darkens a shade.

“Food is the greatest need,” Sir Gray goes on. “However, the youth prefer pushing buttons on digital devices to pulling weeds. Freely distributing stimulating drugs transforms ordinary people into productive, mindless robots, willing to do boring, repetitive motions while listening to loud music.”

Students exchange looks. Some flinch at the word robots. Around here, that word is not just a metaphor.

“People become exploitable commodities based on their ability and willingness to work and produce what the community needs,” Lord Blue says. “Lazy, unskilled workers will not strive to enhance their skills so they can perform the duties no one else wants to do.”

Sir Gray lifts his chin slightly.

“A universal guaranteed income ensures security and a minimal level of wealth,” he says. “Socialism’s goal is to regulate the standard of living for all. Happy workers tirelessly labor so that food, water, clothing, and shelter are available. Everyone gets an equal cut of the basics—food, clothing, shelter. Few need a private jet, motorboat, or wheelchair, so these do not need to be produced.”

To some students, it sounds fair.

To others, it sounds like a cage.

Lord Blue keeps his tone even.

“To maximize efficiency and maintain equality,” he says, “there is one size, one style, and one color of clothes, cars, and houses. Creative innovation is discouraged unless it can be proven to benefit the entire community equally. Using holy spirit inspiration to create art, theater, and music is not considered a basic need—unless it furthers the socialist agenda.”

A chill slides down Evan’s spine.

A world where music only exists if it serves a slogan feels like a world where the soul’s volume is turned down.

Sir Gray continues, unbothered.

“Each human unit can contribute their self‑developed strengths to the betterment of society,” he says. “The community seeks to match skills to jobs. However, workers are often assigned jobs based on the greatest needs of society, not their personal interests and skills.”

Lord Blue takes over.

“If there is a food shortage, you are forced to be a farmer whether you want to or not,” he says. “Workers dissatisfied with their assigned job tend to perform poorly, sometimes hoping to trigger higher bonuses that are guaranteed and not dependent on performance.”

He looks straight at the students.

“People are not equal in attitude, motivation, and morality,” Lord Blue says. “Socialism encourages laziness rather than the pursuit of self‑sufficiency and personal mastery. If someone knows they will receive free food, housing, and clothing, there is no incentive to work. The criminal‑minded exploit the system for personal gain. Eventually, a small portion of society tries to carry the burden for the whole community—unless there is a real requirement to work.”

Sir Gray’s aura pulses, steady, insistent.

“Everyone puts in an equal amount of labor, and everyone shares all the benefits,” he says. “There is no need to save money. The government actively redistributes wealth from the wealthy to the less fortunate. No one person can store up wealth because the government seizes it to pay off others’ debts.”

Abby raises her hand.

“This sounds similar to my Savior,” she says. Her voice is soft but clear. “He takes away my debts and then takes care of all my needs in the afterlife. Is my Savior a kind of spiritual socialist?”

Lord Blue’s mouth twitches, almost a smile.

“Good question to ponder,” he says. “Socialism is not how a traditional family operates. The baby produces nothing, yet receives the most attention. The children can earn a small allowance for doing chores. Mom and Dad work; the kids play. Dad buys expensive toys. Dad gets the bigger portions at dinner. The children go to bed early; the parents stay up late. The parents own the house; the kids grow up and earn the money to buy their own.”

Sir Gray slips back in.

“Socialism reduces disparities between the wealthy and the poor and limits social injustices,” he says. “Socialism allows community members to define their own version of achievement.”

Evan exhales a quiet laugh.

“The stoners consider themselves successful because they watch more TV than anyone else,” he says.

A ripple of laughter runs through the room, cracking the tension for a moment.

Lord Blue’s eyes darken.

“Socialism ensures that single parents and the uneducated lower class have many poorly raised, undisciplined children,” he says. “The poor are encouraged to have more children because they receive a set monthly payment per child, regardless of work performed.”

Evan nods slowly.

“Progressive socialism is creeping into society,” he says. “Newer generations seem to have little curiosity, self‑motivation, or confidence.”

Sir Gray’s aura flares briefly.

“In a community system, salespeople do not persuade shoppers to buy unneeded items,” he says, “because leadership convinces society that they need whatever has been produced. When there are too many tomatoes, everyone is told to eat tomatoes to stay healthy. If the tomato supply runs low, a new scientific study claims that tomatoes are unhealthy. It is easier to change people’s wants than to produce what they truly want.”

Evan’s stomach twists.

“Are you saying overpopulation can be ‘fixed’ by injecting untested chemicals into unsuspecting citizens?” he asks.

Sir Gray’s answer is calm and cold.

“It is easier to reduce the number of mouths than increase the food supply,” he says. “Wars are created when there are too many generals and soldiers without jobs.”

Lord Blue steps closer to him, blue aura tightening.

“Socialism assumes humans are generally good and will do what is necessary to help others succeed,” he says. “Rebels ignore the rules of the system—especially if there is no penalty. When there is no reward for increased production and unemployed people receive the same benefits as workers, more people choose unemployment.”

Sir Gray counters without missing a beat.

“Socialism decreases stressful competition,” he says. “Workers can come when they feel like it and leave when bored. There are no ‘employees of the month’ to make others feel unworthy. No one cares if one team builds a high‑quality house in sixty days while another slaps together an inferior structure in a hundred. Workers have extended freedom to remain… relaxed.”

Evan snorts.

“A reputation for being a fast, skilled worker just earns you more work, not recognition or extra pay,” he says.

Sir Gray gives a thin smile.

“Maintaining equal services requires every project to receive approval from community leadership,” he goes on. “The approval process adds another level of safety, but requires more government workers in administrative positions. Workers are relaxed, so project approvals are unhurried.”

“Slow, incompetent workers get rebranded as ‘relaxed,’” Evan mutters.

A couple of students smirk.

“Everyone has universal, regulated healthcare,” Sir Gray says. “Access to basic care is a guaranteed right, not a privilege for the wealthy seeking advanced care. The government controls the free healthcare system and decides the level of care you receive based on age and how many others are waiting. After a certain age, human commodities are not worth expensive operations that do not increase productivity. No one cares if you die before your name reaches the top of the list. The community runs more efficiently with fewer unproductive, unhealthy workers.”

Lord Blue’s voice hardens.

“A person’s value is based on physical productivity, not spiritual mastery,” he says. “It is more efficient to replace workers with AI robots who do not need food, clothing, or housing.”

Sir Gray doesn’t slow down.

“Unemployment stays low by giving everyone a job with equal pay, even if they lack the necessary skills,” he says. “Naturally, average pay decreases as the number of workers increases.”

Evan raises his hand again.

“I see road repair crews with two workers and four bosses,” he says. “The two workers take turns doing the actual work while the four bosses stand around discussing ‘strategy.’ Socialism pretends to focus on climate change, environmental justice, and economic inequality instead of making high‑quality, useful products and services.”

Sir Gray’s gray aura flickers, then steadies.

“The collective community provides free education to ensure young children are properly taught socialist ideals,” he says. “A common core curriculum provides equal opportunity to work at available jobs.”

Lord Blue shakes his head.

“Public schools do not educate the soul,” he says. “Their goal is to produce obedient, dumbed‑down assembly‑line workers.”

“Socialism promotes forced cooperation over free competition,” Sir Gray says. “Competing firms waste money by investing separately in research and inventions instead of sharing technologies.”

“Research is discouraged,” Lord Blue replies, “because it is easier to copy new technology from other countries.”

Sir Gray presses on.

“Instead of wasting money on mansions and luxury yachts,” he says, “society’s funds provide food, healthcare, education, and affordable, state‑built, compact apartments for all. People do not need to own homes.”

Lord Blue counters.

“Entrepreneurs work harder when rewarded,” he says. “They make higher‑quality goods for less cost to attract customers. Owning a business puts both responsibility and consequences on the investor.”

Sir Gray’s aura darkens again.

“Successful investors amass wealth, causing economic inequality,” he says. “Excess wealth always leads to corruption and misuse of power.”

Evan leans forward, voice steady.

“It’s good to have wealthy people in society,” he says, “because they spend money and keep the economy moving. Successful businesses inspire others to invest. Without wealthy entrepreneurs, there is less money overall, and the government struggles to collect enough taxes to redistribute to the poor.”

Lord Blue nods.

“High achievers and ambitious souls seek better financial opportunities in countries with free enterprise,” he says. “The smart ones move to where they can freely develop their mystic abilities.”

Gray and blue energies twist together in the air—storm clouds and sea currents colliding.

Evan watches, unsettled.

Part of him wonders what it actually feels like to live inside Sir Gray’s vision.

Soon, he will find out.

Chapter 2: Evan and Abby Experience Socialist Food Distribution and Government Housing

Years later, Evan and Abby experience socialist food distribution and government housing firsthand after moving to a new city. The stark reality of their new environment severely contrasts with the earlier promises of equality. Time jumps forward.

In the near future, Evan and Abby will move to a completely socialist country for a few years.

The city that greets them looks as if someone built it out of gray blocks in a rush. Square buildings. Regulated colors. Almost no curves. Almost no surprise.

Even the sky looks nervous—dull white, as if standing out might be illegal.

The moment they step off the transit platform, Abby’s eyes shine.

“We get free food, clothing, and housing,” she says. Hope breaks through her usual caution, bright and fierce. “I’m going to get rich from everything I save. Let’s go grocery shopping.”

Evan’s aura flickers between cautious gold and skeptical blue.

“Don’t trust everything that’s easily promised,” he says.

But Abby is already heading toward a concrete building with a faded sign:

FOOD DISTRIBUTION CENTER

“There’s the grocery store,” Abby says. “Why is the line so long? They must be having a huge sale.”

The line wraps around the block. Faces look tired, hollow, or checked out. The air tastes like exhaust, damp clothes, and impatience.

“All I see is people carrying bags of beans and rice,” Evan says.

Abby shrugs.

She joins the line.

They wait an hour to get inside.

When they finally step through the doors, dust motes drift in thin, tired sunlight.

“The shelves are dusty and mostly empty,” Abby says. “Everyone must have bought what was on sale.”

Evan drags a finger along one shelf.

It comes away gray.

“I don’t think anything has been on these shelves for a long time,” he says.

Abby points to a faded poster taped crookedly to the wall.

“The sign says beans and rice are the most nutritious foods,” she reads. “We should buy some.”

Evan scans the room.

“I want some meat,” he says.

“There is no meat,” Abby replies. “The sign says meat isn’t healthy, and beans and rice are better. The government must be really health‑conscious.”

Evan narrows his eyes.

“Whatever they have becomes ‘healthy,’” he says. “Whatever they don’t have suddenly becomes dangerous.”

Abby clutches the bag of beans a little closer, like she is holding onto the idea that this will all make sense.

“Let’s take our beans and rice and see our efficient government‑provided home,” she says.

They walk past endless rows of identical apartment blocks—same height, same windows, same peeling paint. No gardens. No porches. No swings. Just concrete, doors, and the faint smell of bleach.

When they reach their assigned unit and step inside, Abby tries to force cheer into her voice.

“My closet at home is bigger than this whole flat,” she says.

The apartment is a single square room.

Two narrow beds.

One metal table.

A small sink.

No refrigerator. No dishwasher. No hot water. No microwave. No oven.

“There’s no refrigerator, dishwasher, hot water, microwave, or oven,” Abby says out loud, like naming the losses might shrink them. “The tiny TV only plays government channels. There’s a sign‑up sheet for the filthy community bathroom and showers.” She forces a laugh. “I’ll pretend I’m camping in the woods.”

Evan gives a crooked smile.

“Good thing we didn’t buy anything that needs to be refrigerated,” he says.

His aura pulls in tighter, gold and blue wrapping close.

So this is what “equal comfort” actually looks like.

Chapter 3: Evan Questions Free Will, Self-Control, and Spiritual Inspiration

Alone in the dark, Evan questions free will, self-control, and spiritual inspiration as he contemplates the restricting environment around him. He struggles to reconcile his physical instincts with the higher calling of his divine nature. That night, Evan lies awake on the narrow bed, staring at a cracked patch in the ceiling.

The building hums with low, muffled energy. Threads of gray frustration seep through the walls. Sharp sparks of red anger flash, then fade. Here and there, tiny drops of pale blue kindness flicker and disappear.

All of it blends into a dull vibration that presses against his ribs.

He thinks about Sir Gray’s lecture.

About the endless line for beans.

About Abby hugging her groceries like proof that someone, somewhere, keeps their promises.

In the cramped quiet, a question rises in his mind—clear and impossible to ignore.

Do you choose to live as an instinctual animal or as a divine soul?

He remembers one of Lord Blue’s earlier lessons:

Animals with free will are not allowed in Paradise because they lack self‑control. Dangerous animals in a zoo stay in cages so they do not hurt anyone.

He rolls onto his side and watches Abby sleep.

Her aura flickers between soft faith and sharp fear.

New questions surface, one after another.

Are you directed by a selfish human ego or by spiritual inspiration?

Do you control your body, brain, and emotions—or do they control you?

Are you focused on your soul’s health, wealth, and power?

Do you plan and prepare for your afterlife, or let others decide it for you?

Are you in full control of your thoughts, words, and feelings?

He knows the honest answer.

Not yet.

Lord Blue’s warning echoes:

Undisciplined souls will not be allowed in Paradise. They would destroy it.

Evan stares at his own hands in the dim light.

They tremble—not from cold, but from a tight knot of anger, fear, and something like determination.

“How do I tell the difference between what my human animal wants and what my soul wants?” he wonders.

His animal side wants comfort. Revenge. Instant justice against systems that crush people and call it kindness.

His soul wants something harder.

Justice without hate.

Courage without cruelty.

Strength without becoming another bully.

He feels two forces wrestling inside him:

 One is hot and wild, surging up from his gut like a caged beast.

 The other is steady and bright, rising from somewhere deeper, like a quiet flame at the center of his chest.

They twist around each other, sparking.

In a world that wants him to be either a compliant cog or a raging animal, he is trying to remember how to be a mystic soul.

Outside, the city’s dull lights flicker and dim.

Inside a tiny apartment, on a narrow bed, one Crystic Mystic student keeps asking dangerous questions.

Questions no political system can fully answer.

Questions that might, one day, burn straight through all this gray—and reveal what kind of world his soul actually wants to build.