It was never going to be easy,
I don’t know how,
You convinced yourself it would.
What grand delusion?
What strange drug?
Made you live in the world where this would be easy.
Oh sorry–I didn’t see you there,
I was just talking to myself in the mirror.
I am adrift on the Aeon sea, this place that connects all reality. This place that makes the worlds serve it’s call. The ocean is made of rainbow light–or is it water? It’s so hard to tell. When I throw a stone into the water it is sucked in as though the water is made of tar. I have no hope of swimming or even rowing. So adrift I will be.
My craft is a dead bit of land that somehow floats on the sea. Set adrift by the end of our current–or former reality. And so I’m left to ponder how long I will last. Alone, alive, and adrift on the never ending Aeon Sea.
“For some reason I will probably never understand. It was more important for you to be right then to be helpful. So yes, you’re correct, in the most technical of ways, for the most technical of reasons. I will admit that your technical precision, and technique are more impressive then I’ve ever seen.”
“But that’s not what you asked me.”
“You wanted to know why everyone hates you so much. So I’m telling you now even though I know it’s hard to hear.”
“You never share your correctness with anyone. You horde it for yourself greedily licking up every last drop, as though your thirst will never be quenched.”
“Every Facebook post, every tweet. Seemingly the hottest of takes. Carefully thought out and considered so no one could ever find fault in you.”
“But believe it or not–people forgive fault, and imperfections. They can empathize with those. But this strange obsession you have with always being right. People struggle to understand why. I struggle to understand why.”
“Perfection is beyond our ability to understand. So your perfection, fake as it may be, is incomprehensible, and strange. So people look away in disgust.”
Wandering Poems 