I realized a long time ago that I was not a genius, by any means. I will never produce a new theory which sets the minds of a generation alight, pen a book which sparks revolution or enflame the envy of the world with a business model which leaves me insanely rich. I can't even go an entire sentence without using a series of redundant fire metaphors. Regardless of what talents I may possess, and my admiration for people from Arendt to Zeno, it's never been within my scope to really do anything of lasting historical acclaim - a fact which all too many people are forced to accept, but which many seem not to.
This is not meant pejoratively - every person alive probably contributes irreperably to the fabric of human society, in their own way - yet not everyone can be a fulcrum upon which even a microcosm within a microcosm in the world turns. In accepting this, however, there is a sort of freedom. The expectations one has placed upon them, be it by family or the mythos within which they live, can be a burdon heavier than a mountain and for many it ends up crushing them when they fail to live up to standards they never had a prayer of approaching. Knowing this and understanding, seeing that whatever you do is, more or less, on a scale which is negligible in the greater human experience is the only real self-determination which a person can have.
There is a hypocrisy in writing a post entirely devoted to my awareness of how uninteresting I am, but as I continue to say, that's only a problem if you happen to embrace the idea that hypocrisy is a problem.
cranked out at 12:30 AM | |
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