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 →
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 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.
You know, in that witty and cruel manner that makes you wonder if gods were ever on our side. Continue reading →
I appreciate you coming here, I really do, but you’ve got to stop looking at me like that. You remind me of my shrink. She kept staring at me in such a way, as if I were going to strangle myself with my necktie.
Have you ever heard of Sisyphus? No, it’s not a venereal disease. He was an ancient king. Nasty bastard. He enjoyed killing people. He was deceitful and his greed for power and money was insatiable. Eventually, the gods punished him by making him roll a boulder up a hill, but before he could reach the top, the boulder would always roll back down, so he would never complete his task.
Like Prometheus, who was punished by having his liver eaten by an eagle every day only for it to grow back and be eaten again the next day.
If you thought you were smarter than Zeus, he would punish you in a way you’d never forget. Continue reading →
It is believed the worst kind of suffering to be uncertainty. Humans prefer a bitter truth to having to face the fear of not knowing. The emotional roller coaster, so to speak. People want to know, even if it means breaking their own hearts, over and over again, with the inevitability of their fate. They want to know.
This is why people called Taissa and asked for an appointment. She’d tell them she was busy until the end of the year. They’d beg and promise and… she’d finally agree to half an hour just before dawn or a lunch break in a shopping mall. They knew she knew. They wanted to know what she knew.
The only thing that is worth remembering, and worth remembering over and over again, is that in this world, under all and any circumstance, nothing ever happens.
My name is Jonathan Fisher and I can stare at the sun longer than anyone else on this planet. Longer than you. And I am afraid you are not going to like me.
Most of the time I’m just a ghost, a shadow riding in the back seat of a bus, a whisper travelling across a Universe only ten miles wide. So it shouldn’t surprise you that the first event I can recall with an almost morbid precision took place on my twenty third birthday. That was the day we buried my father. Continue reading →
On a cold and dark night of December I wrote my first story. It was for the first time that I had the vision, that my eyes saw more than what was right there, in front of me, that my ears heard more, and my mouth wanted to speak in a voice that was louder than ever before.
I wanted to reach people, I wanted to share with them the same dream I had. It was happiness in a way that you know it can only last for a few moments, that kind of happiness you could never expect to last longer. I was happy because I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Continue reading →