I am looking through a strip of negatives. One of the pictures was taken from my top bunk bed, looking down on my suitcase and a milk crate containing laundry detergent. The shot was taken shortly before I left for college. And I am sad. It is sad that one would approach a thing like college with an open heart and the desire to make it wonderful…and that the thing would turn out badly. That one would not be able to suck the available goodness out of the situation because of massive incompatibilities. What makes me sad is that that’s what happened with me and high school. What makes me sad is that I have come to this life with an abundance of love and creativity, and I have yet to be met with a compatible set of players. I want to be playing a fun game. I want to be doing creative things and being rewarded for them. I want people to focus on and appreciate my goodness, as opposed to people judging me in negative ways based on my age or grades. Is there a place for me in this world? How can I do what I love among others?
“That boy knows everything about writing there is to know.”
“And that’s your introduction?”
“I think that’s a damn good introduction. Go back to the essentials. What does an introduction have to do? …”
“A brilliant number theorist…”
“Extremely creative and at the same time highly scientific thinking. Very genius, very classical brilliance. It’s no surprise, really, that his teachers didn’t see it.”
“I’m a person that has so many new ideas that I can’t hold on to them all. So I keep my favorite ones to incarnate, and I sell the others for ungodly amounts of money.”
“Like how much money?”
“Well, I first sold an idea when I was nineteen years old. I was fresh out of college; and by that I mean I went to college for two quarters and then decided to leave. So I had been home for a month, had applications in at McDonalds and Arby’s, I called the Air Force and sold them an idea for eight-hundred-thousand dollars.”
There are no universal rules that limit my success to a certain schedule. No reason that absolute spiritual powers have not chosen me to be extraordinary, that they have not emblazoned my hair with power. No pay schedule that says you have to be this old to make this amount of money. No rules confining the amount a project is worth to the amount of time I spent on it. No limit on the distance that I can grow in a day, on the amount of change possible in a length of time. I am unconstrained, unlimited free.