Post by AnimaStone on Apr 5, 2005 22:03:23 GMT -5
This is a piece I wrote in October of 2004 (I think). I entered it in a literary competition in January. If it wins, I'll be sure to tell you all.
Obviously, it's nonfiction, so it's true.
[glow=teal,2,300]Circular Logic[/glow]
indentLife really is a funny thing. It is a cosmic truth, living in the region somewhere between our subconscious and unconscious, that decides to reveal the tiniest fragments of its real meaning at what are often the worst times possible in what are often the worst ways possible. It really is very inconsiderate of life. After one of these revelations, a person tends to think he has the general gist of what is going on. Then another revelation hits, the world crumbles beneath the person’s feet, everything he once knew turns out to be wrong, et cetera, until the person finally gets a grip, rebuilds the world beneath his feet, and revises his definitions of everything he knows. Soon after reconstruction ends, another revelation hits. Then the person goes into chaos for a few years, then rebuilds, then is struck down once more: truly, a vicious cycle. Sometimes, life decides to reveal a truth but not give a full revelation. Then, the person understands, or at least seems to understand, until life shows him the final aspect of that truth. Then the cycle begins anew.
indentI myself am only in the beginning of adolescence, so I have not partaken in this vicious cycle but a few times. I first entered into this sequence of revelations when I was about eleven or twelve years old. At that time, I understood for the first time the most overused and oversimplified principle of the world: all men are created equal. Of course, back then I believed it literally. I did not take into account intelligence, race, privilege, or basically anything else. I paid attention only to the idea.
indentThe next revelation, which completely destroyed my perception of the world, came about one month later. It was then that I realized that not all men are created equal—that, in fact, all men are created unequally. This was coupled closely with the realization of what was really meant by the statement. This revelation caused my entire way of thinking to take a downshift into pessimism. I could not fathom why the world would work this way; but at the same time, I did not question it, instead taking the principle that not everything is good and right and applying it to everything in my life. This only goes to show the power of life: although the revelations seem extremely obvious after they occur, they are complete surprises when they happen, and they are forceful enough to shatter the very foundations of a world.
indentThe next revelations I had are all common sense to anyone past their teenage years. One of the latest revelations I have had is that of just how complex but yet linear a human mind is. It is capable of contemplating the highest of ideals: Life, Liberty, Goodness, Justice, and God. At the same time, it is capable of making the stupidest mistakes and most flawed connections in even the best of circumstances—much less the worst. Perhaps it is this grand symphony of intellect and idiocy that truly makes us human.
indentHowever, I have found a way to anchor myself against the tsunami of life’s reality: creativity. I take refuge in the very thing I both praise and scorn, my mind. I convert life’s truths into its untruths—I think up stories. I create movie plots, children’s books, video games, epic poems, even novels. If I even had a hundredth the determination it takes to write all of them, I would be the most prolific writer in the United States.
indentI do not.
indentAlmost invariably, the anchoring process follows four steps. First, I will get the idea. Second, I will tell someone about it. Whether it is my mom while we’re driving home from swim practice, or it’s a friend that happens to sit near me during class, or the faceless entities I meet on the internet, I have a need to tell someone what I have thought up. And then the third step always comes. They will tell me that I need to do something with the idea. My mom will tell me to write a story about it. My friends will tell me that I “totally need to write a book about that.” The internet personalities will tell me that this time I should actually write the story.
indentAnd then comes the fourth step: I do absolutely nothing with the idea from that point on except think about it, develop it even more into something easily translated to paper, and forget it. This step invariably happens.
indentOne day, I was pondering the meaning of my newest revelation—that all men need to hope for something. I ended up creating what I personally believe is the best story idea I have ever come up with. It tied magic together with science together with human nature and even Rock ‘n Roll. I told my mom about it. She told me that I should write it down so that I would remember it later. I told my friends about it. They told me that I “really need to write that book.” I told the people on the internet. They wanted to know when they could expect to see the first chapter in the series. Then, I didn’t write it down, didn’t write a book about it, and didn’t ever write the first chapter in the series. I did chisel the world and symbolism and plot to a fine point, but I never did anything else with the idea. That fourth step always happens.
indentThat is why when I had my latest revelation and corresponding book idea, I didn’t tell anyone. Alone, I thought about the conflict in human goodness. I looked at the newspapers and saw the latest about Enron. I watched the nightly news and learned about the latest multiple homicide in the Dallas area. I opened my eyes in my daily life and saw more cruelty than I ever knew could exist. But then, I looked at the newspapers and saw the effort and money being expended to help the victims of the tsunamis. I watched the nightly news and learned about the latest Habitat for Humanity house to go up. I opened my eyes in my daily life and saw even more kindness than cruelty in it.
indentI didn’t even bother to go to step two in the anchoring process. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell people because I knew exactly what they would say. I knew exactly how they would say it. I even knew exactly what tone of voice they would say it in. They would tell me to write it down, to write a story about it.
indentSo I did. You just read it.
Obviously, it's nonfiction, so it's true.
[glow=teal,2,300]Circular Logic[/glow]
indentLife really is a funny thing. It is a cosmic truth, living in the region somewhere between our subconscious and unconscious, that decides to reveal the tiniest fragments of its real meaning at what are often the worst times possible in what are often the worst ways possible. It really is very inconsiderate of life. After one of these revelations, a person tends to think he has the general gist of what is going on. Then another revelation hits, the world crumbles beneath the person’s feet, everything he once knew turns out to be wrong, et cetera, until the person finally gets a grip, rebuilds the world beneath his feet, and revises his definitions of everything he knows. Soon after reconstruction ends, another revelation hits. Then the person goes into chaos for a few years, then rebuilds, then is struck down once more: truly, a vicious cycle. Sometimes, life decides to reveal a truth but not give a full revelation. Then, the person understands, or at least seems to understand, until life shows him the final aspect of that truth. Then the cycle begins anew.
indentI myself am only in the beginning of adolescence, so I have not partaken in this vicious cycle but a few times. I first entered into this sequence of revelations when I was about eleven or twelve years old. At that time, I understood for the first time the most overused and oversimplified principle of the world: all men are created equal. Of course, back then I believed it literally. I did not take into account intelligence, race, privilege, or basically anything else. I paid attention only to the idea.
indentThe next revelation, which completely destroyed my perception of the world, came about one month later. It was then that I realized that not all men are created equal—that, in fact, all men are created unequally. This was coupled closely with the realization of what was really meant by the statement. This revelation caused my entire way of thinking to take a downshift into pessimism. I could not fathom why the world would work this way; but at the same time, I did not question it, instead taking the principle that not everything is good and right and applying it to everything in my life. This only goes to show the power of life: although the revelations seem extremely obvious after they occur, they are complete surprises when they happen, and they are forceful enough to shatter the very foundations of a world.
indentThe next revelations I had are all common sense to anyone past their teenage years. One of the latest revelations I have had is that of just how complex but yet linear a human mind is. It is capable of contemplating the highest of ideals: Life, Liberty, Goodness, Justice, and God. At the same time, it is capable of making the stupidest mistakes and most flawed connections in even the best of circumstances—much less the worst. Perhaps it is this grand symphony of intellect and idiocy that truly makes us human.
indentHowever, I have found a way to anchor myself against the tsunami of life’s reality: creativity. I take refuge in the very thing I both praise and scorn, my mind. I convert life’s truths into its untruths—I think up stories. I create movie plots, children’s books, video games, epic poems, even novels. If I even had a hundredth the determination it takes to write all of them, I would be the most prolific writer in the United States.
indentI do not.
indentAlmost invariably, the anchoring process follows four steps. First, I will get the idea. Second, I will tell someone about it. Whether it is my mom while we’re driving home from swim practice, or it’s a friend that happens to sit near me during class, or the faceless entities I meet on the internet, I have a need to tell someone what I have thought up. And then the third step always comes. They will tell me that I need to do something with the idea. My mom will tell me to write a story about it. My friends will tell me that I “totally need to write a book about that.” The internet personalities will tell me that this time I should actually write the story.
indentAnd then comes the fourth step: I do absolutely nothing with the idea from that point on except think about it, develop it even more into something easily translated to paper, and forget it. This step invariably happens.
indentOne day, I was pondering the meaning of my newest revelation—that all men need to hope for something. I ended up creating what I personally believe is the best story idea I have ever come up with. It tied magic together with science together with human nature and even Rock ‘n Roll. I told my mom about it. She told me that I should write it down so that I would remember it later. I told my friends about it. They told me that I “really need to write that book.” I told the people on the internet. They wanted to know when they could expect to see the first chapter in the series. Then, I didn’t write it down, didn’t write a book about it, and didn’t ever write the first chapter in the series. I did chisel the world and symbolism and plot to a fine point, but I never did anything else with the idea. That fourth step always happens.
indentThat is why when I had my latest revelation and corresponding book idea, I didn’t tell anyone. Alone, I thought about the conflict in human goodness. I looked at the newspapers and saw the latest about Enron. I watched the nightly news and learned about the latest multiple homicide in the Dallas area. I opened my eyes in my daily life and saw more cruelty than I ever knew could exist. But then, I looked at the newspapers and saw the effort and money being expended to help the victims of the tsunamis. I watched the nightly news and learned about the latest Habitat for Humanity house to go up. I opened my eyes in my daily life and saw even more kindness than cruelty in it.
indentI didn’t even bother to go to step two in the anchoring process. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell people because I knew exactly what they would say. I knew exactly how they would say it. I even knew exactly what tone of voice they would say it in. They would tell me to write it down, to write a story about it.
indentSo I did. You just read it.