January 7

Forward

I suppose a better introduction is necessary. I spent the first post pontificating on the creation of combustion-containing engines and conduits inside the self to contain the fire of whatever it is that fuels our passion and the second affirming my allegiance to prose that is raw and revealing.

Of course, that all makes me sound like a basic bitch. I don’t like to sound like a basic bitch, because, like anybody, I’d like to contribute more to society than “me toos.”

When I was young, I thought I could revolutionize philosophy and be some paragon of virtue that would light the world and push us into a new era of peace and joy and freedom. My words and thoughts would flow through the universe like some catalytic big bang, opening minds and hearts and ushering in a age of permanent perfection expanding out infinitely through the Multiverse.

Yes, I’m that dumb.

I’ve since discovered that most of the philosophy I could ever want to live by already exists in multiple different forms, and that the challenge is not coming up with something new, because it already exists. Rather, it’s a problem of synthesizing and incorporation.

The problem isn’t creation because creation isn’t truly necessary; it’s how to incorporate the techniques and truths I’ve found into my life and my self. How do I remain flexible enough in those beliefs and open enough in my mind to question even the most profound and seemingly rock solid ideas I’ve discovered?

Knowing that perfection is out of reach (and who would want it anyway?), how do I ensure that I keep growing and expanding and getting better at who I am and what I do?

Because I started off something shitty. Like everyone, I’ve got lots of things I’m not proud of and some things of which I am. It’s a progression. I am a better person now (I hope) than I was when I was twenty.

I don’t expect to change the world anymore. I’m just hoping people think I’m an okay guy, and that my family and friends don’t think too poorly of me. I’d like to transition from the tech sector I’m stuck in to being a full time (and hopefully successful) author.

I’m working on it. All this talk of fire and raw nerves is part of it, but at the end of the day, the aims are much smaller. Laughing over dinner with my wife, putting a story out there and having a friendly discussion about it. Maybe hearing someone enjoyed it. That they got it. That it touched something inside them.

A boy can dream and that part, at least, I’ve got down cold.


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Posted January 7, 2020 by Elliott Michaels in category "personal", "writing

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