P is for the PUUUGHHHH in philosophySo, if we all have something to prove to the world, wouldn't it make sense that we would all inherently have something to offer the world from conception of life? Like how the X-Men were born with supernatural gifts to use for the benefit or detriment of man-kind. Although, its certain that we cannot possilby know what we are going to do to acheive greatness. However, I think it depresses me that I don't fully feel like I have been challenged by the world (other than to accept others) and the greatness I think we are all supposed to be destined for is in reality either a bit part of a larger good (or evil) or it is only a improvement for a narrow band of people. It seems like if we are going to be one of the people who individually acheives greatness that there should be some sort of sign that we are well on our way to doing something impressive if not worldly but personally. My example is that I want to be someone who is recognized and who can teach some people about the facinating concept of sound. However, I haven't applied to a billion internships, or had one for that matter, and nor have I done something that shows that I am a worthy person to achieve greatness in some area. I certainly know people who are so dedicated to something that they want to get that feeling of an accomplished goal that they have already done some things that are proof of destined quality in their life's pursuits. Robert, for one, is a man who is seen as being a slug in a rabbit race of getting things done and out of the way. Robert is a extremely efficient sloth who chews through his work so dilligently and so carefully that he seemingly cannot fail. Of course we all are not perfect, but Robert certainly shows that his dedication to something and his already proven natural genius is there.
I don't think I feel like his achievements hinder mine, nor do any others, and I most surely do not feel like I can't produce anything of worth. I just don't understand if we are supposed to know or understand when we are doing something of merit. Maybe Einstein or Dostoyevsky or Duchamp just thought they were doing something but never thought "this is it! this is what my life's work will condense into in which proves my value and esteem."
Maybe that is why artists become more famous for their work until after they are dead.
¶ 1/20/2005 01:37:00 AM