I am not as important as I think I am. In that last sentence I mentioned myself twice, and in this sentence two more times. That’s four more times than I referred to Napoleon or Julius Caesar or Jesus or any other person who made a permanent mark on our society.
When I was younger I thought for one’s life to be considered a success, a true success, you would have to do something that made people remember you. And not just for a few years after you die, but for the long run. Now I realize that’s a silly goal. For to really make your mark in a historical sense you have to either kill a lot of people or start a religion and I have no interest in either.
But I know this whole writing thing I do is borne from that adolescent ambition. The idea that the words I configure into sentences will have some importance, That some sailor lost at sea might open up that bottle and find something worth reading.
Of course, if he was shipwrecked and in the vast sea happened to run into a bottle, how angry would he be that instead of water, rum, or beer, there were only words?