…in the high ground.
But I have always held it, more or less, and I will always hold it in the future, I think. It seems to be unavoidable, for me. It’s the only thing I understand. I am not wanted in most corners. No matter. I’m here, and those that try to avoid me or be done with me will still have to cope with me long after they thought they were rid of me. No, it’s not some cryptic code or creed. It’s just the nature of human memory and identity. I mercilessly haunt the past of every person who’s ever betrayed or injured me. I’m not happy or sad about that fact; it just is.
Despite claims of transcendence, ignorance, or justification, I know. I know.
I’m not the right person for any of this, I’m just future-professor-guy with the beer and the desire to smoke a cigar and wear a jacket. It’ll come to me eventually, it’s like building your future, like building a house or a boat or anything else. I’m building. I’m gonna get there.
And then, when I do, half the world will hate me and the other half the world will hate me ’cause I’m not a profiteer, and I’m not an anti-profiteer, I’m just a guy who tries to transcend it all.
Everyone is so fucking tied to their materiality.
Let go already!