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!
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
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
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 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 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
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?
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
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!
You pick out an empty book... and you begin to write.