Reflection from November 15th, 2012 @ Age 31
RE: WHEN YOUR 10th GRADE ENGLISH TEACHER, WHO LEARNED YOU **THE CATCHER IN THE RYE**/A.K.A. MRS. SAVAGE—WRITES A LETTER TO PRINCESS DIANA, REGARDING THEIR STRIKING, PHYSICAL RESEMBLANCE, AND THEN—READS ALOUD, TO YOUR ENTIRE CLASS, THE LETTER, PRINCESS DIANA WROTE **BACK** ;oD
It seems, my focus, is all whacked out of shape. I’m focused on some bitch from my past—with her big, fucking house. And, I’m focused on some asshole from my past—who made manager, too, before me. All of that, instead of what lies in front of me—all the great people I have, yet, to meet. I am thinking of past failures, or, so they’ve been called—but, my past cannot dictate my future, unless I allow that to be the case. I have learned—I have grown; I will always continue to grow. And, really, if I passed that damn bar exam—after those three-years, I sure as hell can do anything! Here’s to the future, Maris…
NOT THE HEIGHT, IT IS THE DECLIVITY THAT IS TERRIBLE!
The declivity, where the gaze shooteth downwards, and the hand graspeth upwards. There doth the heart become giddy through its double will.
This, this is my declivity and my danger, that my gaze shooteth towards the summit, and my hand would fain clutch and lean—on the depth!
I know not you men: this gloom and consolation is often spread around me.
This is my first manly prudence, that I allow myself to be deceived, so as not to be on my guard against deceivers.
Ah, if I were on my guard against man, how could man be an anchor to my ball! Too easily would I be pulled upwards and away!
This providence is over my fate, that I have to be without foresight.
And he who would not languish amongst men, must learn to drink out of all glasses; and he who would keep clean amongst men, must know how to wash himself even with dirty water.
This, however, is mine other manly prudence: I am more forbearing to the vain than to the proud.
Good actors I have found all the vain ones: they play, and wish people to be fond of beholding them—all their spirit is in this wish.
They represent themselves, they invent themselves; in their neighbourhood I like to look upon life—it cureth of melancholy.
Therefore am I forbearing to the vain, because they are the physicians of my melancholy, and keep me attached to man as to a drama.
And further, who conceiveth the full depth of the modesty of the vain man! I am favourable to him, and sympathetic on account of his modesty.
From you would he learn his belief in himself; he feedeth upon your glances, he eateth praise out of your hands.
Your lies doth he even believe when you lie favourably about him: for in its depths sigheth his heart: “What am I?”
And if that be the true virtue which is unconscious of itself—well, the vain man is unconscious of his modesty!
This is, however, my third manly prudence: I am not put out of conceit with the wicked by your timorousness.
Also amongst men there is a beautiful brood of the warm sun, and much that is marvellous in the wicked.
And oft did I ask with a shake of the head: Why still rattle, ye rattle-snakes?
Verily, there is still a future even for evil! And the warmest south is still undiscovered by man.
How many things are now called the worst wickedness, which are only twelve feet broad and three months long! Some day, however, will greater dragons come into the world.
For that the Superman may not lack his dragon, the superdragon that is worthy of him, there must still much warm sun glow off moist virgin forests!
Ah, I became tired of those highest and best ones: from their “height” did I long to be up, out, and away to the Superman!
Into more distant futures, into more southern souths than ever artist dreamed of: thither, where Gods are ashamed of all clothes!
But disguised do I want to see you, ye neighbours and fellowmen, and well-attired and vain and estimable, as “the good and just;”
Thus spoke Zarathustra.