A Good Great

I glance across the monolith

To the boy chewing on his headphone cables

And wonder what he’ll end up becoming after his time passes.

Will he make it big in his corner of the world, like I hope and hope I will?

I don’t know him well enough to find that truth.

I don’t know myself well enough to know my fate.

So I agonize over these forces with an imaginary locus of control.

I think of the article I almost wrote. The novel I’ve been trying to finish.

Something clicks in my head, an invisible loudspeaker materializes

With veins bursting in their forehead

Among the obscenities and cuss-outs, I hear this.

“Take it day by day and just fucking do it.”

All of this existential future dread took up the space that my improvement needed,

So I fell off of my rails and succumbed.

No more.

It’s back to the poetry. An easy routine whose greatness becomes easier in time. A photo a day to complement.

In a life where time is the antagonist and greatness the ends,

I realize I have nothing but time and greatness is subjective.

Bad people can get what they want and win.

They’re called great without ever being good.

Why put time in energy to compare myself to these vastly differing goals?

I’ve got skills to develop and time

To make my path to a good great.

 

The reflection in the mirror after 4 years at UMass will not encase me in who I’ll be for the rest of my life.

All we can do is move forward.

What a beautiful gift of a “can” that is.

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