Into the void...
“That night she sat for hours, too numb even to drink, teaching herself to breathe in a vacuum. For this, oh God, was the void. There was nobody who could help her. Nobody in the world. They were all on something, mad, possible enemies, dead.”
-Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49
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2002-11-05
10:05 a.m.
I believe it is relatively obvious that I care about who I am, what I do, how I appear to the outside world, and whether or not I do my best in everything I attempt. No one can say that I don’t try my hardest, and, in the event that they argue that point anyway, they would certainly not be able to contest the fact that I do better than most of the world’s population when I’m not even TRYING. I’m naturally a smart person. I’m intuitively intellectual, logical, and reasonable.
And I’m sick to death of people thinking I don’t know what I’m doing.
People seem always to be judging what I do from the standpoint of where they exist. If they can possibly project a past image of themselves upon my situation, they always do and they invariably come to the conclusion that because they were young and stupid once, I, too, must be going through that young and stupid age. And most of the time, I believe they’re projecting an image of stupidity and naivety because they feel threatened by how much smarter I am than they are.
I wish they would all just shut the fuck up and leave me alone to do my work in peace and quiet. Leave me alone to write my book the way I want to because all those formalities and traditions are going to have to go right the fuck out the window if anyone ever intends to take literature to a new height as an art form. You can’t make things better by focusing on how they’re SUPPOSED to be or how they HAVE been. You have to focus on what differences will improve upon a previously good idea, and you have to put those ideas into motion to create progress.
You can’t abide by the rules if you want to excel.
I’m not normal. I don’t know why people continually insist that I am. The world continues to believe that I belong in the middle of all the other slobs and idiots of the population because I am human, and, to be human is to be like the rest of the world, right? No. I am different. I am unique. I am better, harder working, and more respectable.
Everyone else can go to hell.
