Story:
You suck at something
It bothers you, so you work hard at it & many years, through lots of pain and failure
You are now good at the thing & it comes easy to you
You look around and you see that most people suck at this
Why don’t they just get good?? Being good rules!
You suck at something
It bothers you, so you work hard at it & many years, through lots of pain and failure
You are now good at the thing & it comes easy to you
You look around and you see that most people suck at this
Why don’t they just get good?? Being good rules!
You can’t say that, that’s rude, and dismissive. So you don’t say it.
But it’s awkward,,, to be around people whose problems would be solved if they simply committed to solving their problems
You have to conclude they don’t really want to solve their problems, not like you did
But it’s awkward,,, to be around people whose problems would be solved if they simply committed to solving their problems
You have to conclude they don’t really want to solve their problems, not like you did
It’s lonely to be around people you can’t entirely be honest with. So now you have to start looking for new friends.
Thankfully, you are Good at Stuff, and being Good at Stuff is a great shortcut for meeting others who are Also Good At Stuff. You have a shared unspoken bond
Thankfully, you are Good at Stuff, and being Good at Stuff is a great shortcut for meeting others who are Also Good At Stuff. You have a shared unspoken bond
It’s mostly great! although you also find that a lot of the people who are Good At Stuff are... naturals. A lot of them had great parents, families, support networks. Many of them don’t know what it’s like to Have Sucked. Over cocktails, you find yourself missing your old friends
It dawns on you that you don’t belong here either.
So, less bitterly than the last time, but with the same underlying sadness, you leave this city and head off again, this time more randomly, directionless-ly, wandering to see if the world can still surprise you
So, less bitterly than the last time, but with the same underlying sadness, you leave this city and head off again, this time more randomly, directionless-ly, wandering to see if the world can still surprise you
You wander a great many lands, see a great many sights.
You develop a growing fondness of life itself, all-laughing, all-colorful, and a begrudging respect for its hideous cruelty, its senseless destruction
everywhere people are different,
everywhere people are the same.
You develop a growing fondness of life itself, all-laughing, all-colorful, and a begrudging respect for its hideous cruelty, its senseless destruction
everywhere people are different,
everywhere people are the same.
You go to a great many parties, with wondrous lights and sounds. You meet delightful people of every race and tongue
You spend hours and days in total stillness, by the vast and endless sea, until you forget to remember who you are
And still your restless heart trembles
You spend hours and days in total stillness, by the vast and endless sea, until you forget to remember who you are
And still your restless heart trembles
What is this dissatisfaction you feel, you who have bitten so deeply into the fruit of life?
Who are you to feel unease, when everything is easier for you than for others?
Is this a burden or a blessing, a boon, or bane?
Why won’t it leave you alone? What does it want of you?
Who are you to feel unease, when everything is easier for you than for others?
Is this a burden or a blessing, a boon, or bane?
Why won’t it leave you alone? What does it want of you?
After a great deal of wandering, you find the ruins of an old, abandoned city, derelict and forgotten
curious, you make your way to the center, towards a great tower, kindred and beckoning.
Perhaps it was a church to the gods, you wonder, or maybe a throne room for the kings
curious, you make your way to the center, towards a great tower, kindred and beckoning.
Perhaps it was a church to the gods, you wonder, or maybe a throne room for the kings
Gently you push open the giant stone doors, which creak and groan with the weight of centuries
Spread before you are not jewels, or riches or gold, but a vast, endless sea... of books. Books of all shapes and sizes, lovingly bound, meticulously kept
It’s a library!
Spread before you are not jewels, or riches or gold, but a vast, endless sea... of books. Books of all shapes and sizes, lovingly bound, meticulously kept
It’s a library!
Excited, you grab one book, and another. You devour tome after tome, astounded by the souls of these kind strangers you have never met and will never know. Somehow they seem to know you by heart, in a way nobody else ever has, in a way you have yearned to be known all your life
As days turn into weeks and months into years, it becomes clear to you what you must do with your life.
You pick out an empty book... and you begin to write.
You pick out an empty book... and you begin to write.
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