What amuses me most about dreams is that most of the time we tend to attach a sort of vague hope to them. It’s like we spend an awful lot of time contemplating a distant future when all our dreams will come true instead of actually trying to make them come true.
But it doesn’t work like that.
I try not to regret (the things I did or didn’t do) but I can’t help but feel sorry that half my “career” as a writer was spent like this. I wasn’t writing that much, mostly because writing is kind of hard – especially when you’re just starting out and you’re worried about technical stuff, about the mechanics of writing. I suppose all aspiring writers spend more time wishing for stories to magically get written.
Less than six months after I got published, I won the Pulitzer. Actually… I’m just kidding. I sold, well, I really didn’t sell many books.
I know what you’re thinking right now. What a waste of time and energy. But I don’t regret it. The calling is for you to write stories. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. Success is something that comes as a bonus, if you’re lucky enough.
But still, there were times when I thought that I could have made things differently; I could have tried to write a new book, a better one. But I didn’t. I guess that I had exhausted my patience and courage. Continue reading “The Writer: Chapter 19”
No one is going to remember you. Fifty years from now, when you’re long gone, when all the pictures of you and your family have decayed like old bones in a cemetery, you’ll be less than nothing.
It will be as if you never even existed.
So what’s the purpose of it all? Why should you pretend to be the good guy, why are you trying to bring judgment upon the world, when the world itself doesn’t want you, doesn’t need you, and most certainly is going to forget you the moment you die? Why would anyone want to be nothing?Continue reading “The Writer: Chapter 6”
The odds of being born on any given day are about 0,27%. Of course, certain days are different than others, due to religious, cultural, or practical reasons. That’s why the odds of being born on Christmas Day are 0.0022%.
I was born on Christmas Day.
You ever hear the expression: “Karma’s a bitch?”
I know, I know. Such a terrible cliche. But it’s kind of true. I never met her, but I can tell you that “bitch” is the best possible definition of karma.
Fate fortunes the bold, the Romans would say.
It does. But she also screws them over, in ways no one could ever possibly imagine.
Like the ancient gods of Greece.
Like the way Zeus screwed mortal men and especially women for centuries.