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I don't know what it is that I want to do.
"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science." - Albert Einstein
I drive along the deserted country road, windows down, music up, humming some song I've heard a few thousand times.
I'm not going anywhere, I'm not coming from anywhere, I'm just... there.
I'm thinking about absolutely nothing... and yet somehow, everything.
I am focused on the gentle curves of the road and how my car would gently rise and decline with the hills, and yet I have to blink and open my eyes wide every few moments to make sure I am awake.
While being completely absent, I am ever present in the moment.
I don't know what it is that I want to do.
The nature on either side of the road changes as I journey through the wilderness.
The empty fields become wild forests and sandy beaches.
The rural landscape becomes cold concrete and the urban jungle fades into rural nothingness again.
I feel like I have so much to say, but have no place to be saying it.
The words form patterns in my head, equations fall into place, and the problems resolve themselves. I come up with a million ideas and all I want to do is share them with others.
While everyone else speaks in sounds, I speak in colors.
I am full.
Full of thoughts and ideas and myself.
I build myself up with sticks and stones I've gathered on the road less traveled.
Yet when I sit in the throne of my castle in the clouds, I am betrayed by my own pretentious hypocrisy.
"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex... It takes a touch of genius, and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction." - Albert Einstein
I arrive at the beach, my beach, and I collapse in the sand.
I run my fingers through the soft specks and try to realize that though the land seems solid, it's made up of millions and millions of little grains of sand.
I try to comprehend that each tiny grain of sand is made up of even smaller bits, and those bits are made up of even smaller bits, and that it goes on and on.
The same is true for the ocean. As I watch it violently crash against the beach, I remember that it isn't one giant beast, but an infinite number of drops moving as one.
For a minute, I compare people and individual grains of sand, and realize that somebody else had already come to this conclusion.
That what seems like a grand epiphany to me was a thought somebody else had, on the toilet, hungover and cranky.
At this point, it isn't the sand that makes me feel insignificant, it is my own psychosis.
I wonder if others have these same thoughts.
If other people are like myself.
If they prefer to be alone, with their thoughts, only to realize how obvious the seemingly complicated things are.
Does the fact that I realize how obvious my revelations are make me stupid or smart for realizing that they are obvious?
Would a stupid person question their own intelligence or are intelligent people smart enough to convince themselves that there is no reason to doubt.
"Would it save you a lot of time if I just gave up and went mad now?” -Douglas Adams
No, I don't know what it is that I want to do.
Maybe I could teach.
Spend thousands of dollars and hours so that I may sit in front of adolescents who aren't there to learn, but to achieve something. To get something out of the way.
Maybe I could do stand-up.
I could travel the world, starving myself so that I may tease the minds of the curious in between fart jokes and hecklers.
Or maybe I could keep talking to myself.
Maybe I could keep writing down words that mean absolutely nothing while I procrastinate. Filling the mid-card with cheesy goodness while I play around with the idea for the main event.
Drawing out a dramatic fourth quarter comeback so that you'll watch the Super Bowl.
Or maybe, I'll keep struggling.
Keep writing pointless, pretentious, predictable, although poetically alliterative bullshit until I perfect it.
I smile as the sand slips between my fingers.
"Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so" -Douglas Adams
© 2014 Ryan Smith