For a large body of work such as that which I have undertaken here, seeing that my life to this point, though lacking in grandeur and/or eminence in any particular deed, comprises of innumerable episodes of drudgery and travails and peculiarities and oddities whose sheer magnitude, being immeasurable, makes up for and indeed more than makes up for the lack thereof, it is absolutely imperative to express my utter distaste for the indescribable insufficiency of the written word, whose consistent inflexibility (largely consistent because of its inflexibility but also rather inflexible due its consistency) I shall never cease to decry. The impossibility of language to express accurately and vividly a life of majestic beauty, said beauty found not in the august caverns of the high and mighty but rather in the inexpressible joy and exhilaration of existing on the fringes of society to say nothing of life itself, is a concern with which I have grappled and one that has had me at my wit’s end. But I am not so baffled as to be hindered from attaining any goal I set my sights on, having quite the fiery personality as to even astound myself sometimes, setting my heart, doused with metaphorical concentrations of flammable oils and fluids, aflame, ready to work my way into the annals of history by surmounting that which has been called insurmountable and achieving that which has exceeded the grasp of most; and though I contend that I have done nothing of the sort so far, it is not my spirit which fails but my mind which conquers. What good are they, these illustrious and towering deeds of man? Do I wish to preserve some memory of my existence, to proclaim to all the world, ‘here am I’ or ‘here was I’? To elucidate to my fellow humans all over the world and to their children and their children’s children and so forth that the ripple they feel in the wind and in the leaves and in the vast oceans that cover the globe and even in the tremors in the earth within the fiery places below, that these are the after-effects of my existence? I am not a pretentious self-aggrandizing and vainglorious windbag vaunter poseur no! I am simply all that is portrayed here, and little else more. I present to you, kind reader, a memoir of myself, a non-person, and if you should do so well as to find yourself mirrored in my words, take heart my friend, for this is greatness!

Published in: on May 12, 2012 at 12:00 PM  Comments (1)