Pack.

To live the life of a dog but for a day; that is the dream. To live life bereft of sophistication. To live life loved by strangers so much, for so little. In a world lack of a need to pre-acknowledge.Separating things like us from the savage beasts and in some perspective perhaps holding us back from a level of communication. This preconceived notion that if someone is not an expert at every single topic, for whatever lack of a better reasoning, makes them less than another.

“The lion may be the king of the jungle but you don’t see a wolf perform in a circus.” Or so they say. If you really break it down it makes no sense. Lions don’t live in jungles. Their natural habitat is open grasslands. However, the message speaks bigger meaning than itself. Wolves in a pack tend to roam with a level of hierarchy. The Alphas,the strong, well postured, hunters. The Betas, the loyal, clever, supportive. Next we have everyone in the pack after. They sort themselves into a social arrangement that best fits the needs of the pack. Positioning is crucial in this life, with it determines your freedoms, responsibilities, and the likelihood of breeding.

For so much of my life I believed as though it is my meaning of existence to live as a king. Growing up sorting myself between the social class. Living in the pack of constantly sorting social standing to wade through the opinions of sheep in wolves fur. The belief was simple, bow to the king, learn from the king, impress the king. As we grow older as a men, we are taught to become the King. Perhaps it’s one man’s personal opinion but it seems there is more to life than that. To spend a life time bearing teeth around every corner to levy your way up the pack, for what? To then spend the remainder snarl at the ready for any challenger looking to walk in our territory. To be replaced; to be forgotten; to die.

At the bottom of the chain, the Omega, will sit by and endure a life of taunt and ridicule. Why does he stay? Quite simply, since the Omega knows where he is in the pack. He is void of responsibility. Anything he does from that point forward is helping simply by adding numbers to the pack. He is free to live his life amongst the pack to make his own friends with that added exception. The weight of social dependency is lifted as the Omega acknowledges his place at the lowest of the pack.

The Omega is free. There is no worry if the pack thinks lesser, he does as he needs. Although he is the first to be kicked from the pack, the Omega finds himself a way to work with the system of relationships that are establishes. Spending his life amongst the pack but nothing more than a value in Darwin’s equation of survival gives the freedom to watch. To watch the pack is the job of the Alpha which is where things get interesting.

The Omega focuses solely on the pack, he finds a way to make himself useful within the pack or will find himself challenged and cast away. For him, the pack is the only reason he exists within the community. He can fend for himself, start his own pack, survive. However to live there must be life surrounding. To that he finds life. The Alpha must focus on the pack and the Beta. The Beta focuses solely on the Alpha. The pack focuses on the Alpha and the Beta. Aside from the Alpha and the Omega no one pays attention to the condition of the pack.

Until the line gets crossed. The Alpha and the Omega are, although equal focus, separated by the pack. The Alpha will take note of the Omega imposing on his responsibilities, however the strength of the leader is focused on the pack's ability to rely on the leader's instincts and strength or at least a damn good bluff. The Omega will be forced to decide between fight or flight. Grit the bicuspids or run for the hills. Save the pack or start a pack. Bellowing howls and crisp jagged snarls welcoming. Strengthening his stance, the Alpha’s eyes as daggers bleed into the Omega aggravating his roar. The Omega glares square throu his ricochet grin, without speaking a word they clash; “You’re not my kind”.