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Life’s “IOUs”.

I recently wrote to my editor: “after four years of doors being shut, all of them opening at once is a little overwhelming”.

He understood. He is also a writer.

Then, in the recent days, I mulled over my statement and the sentiment from which it stemmed. Okay, in all honesty, Ayn Rand’s masterpiece–and I have NEVER used that word to describe any book, film, or even painting–has set my mind on fire. A beautiful, ravenous pyre which will never wane or burn out. I am thinking sideways, upside down; walking through panes of glass which I had mistaken for truth, when in reality, they were sugar glass, fragile and deceiving. I have only gotten to Part two of Atlas Shrugged; I still have three more quarters to read and digest, but thus far, I can safely say that I am no longer the same person as I was before I began reading this wondrous and explosive philosophy disguised as fiction.

I will, in later posts, give you all my understanding of Objectivism: I know you’re dying to hear it, aren’t you? 🙂 Don’t worry, I’ll make it sexy. Because it is. It is absolutely the most invigorating system of thought I have yet to glimpse, and I am greatly excited. Can you tell? What can I say, a beautifully crafted body turns me on, but emotional intelligence and liberating awareness…clarity of purpose? That’s what I’m talking about baby. That’s how your rock my world.

Back to my meek statement. As I read those words back, I am almost ashamed. It is diametrically opposed to my chief personal quest of achieving balance in my life. How can I encourage myself to think that way? I want to be on the summit of consciousness, breathing in clear, crisp thoughts, not inhaling these polluted notions only to exhale them out into the world in turn.

Why would I not embrace, fully, without pretense, my success, my happiness, my achievement? Why would I feel a sense of dull guilt about it? Is it not OUR purpose to strive for the best? Ah, but only if the best is not better than anybody else, right?

I spoke of balance, and this is what I meant: I have had a few moments in my life where life pummeled me into a corner. We all have. Moments when loss, pain, the inevitability of some personal disaster brings us down to our knees. I have had minutes–only brief instances–where I considered a permanent way out of physical life. This was a decade a go, yet I remember that year; it is etched into the bark of my soul.

But I took it. The crap. The stupid misery. Losing the one person who knew me. I rode the shit wave to shore. And now, ten years later, happiness comes knocking. success comes calling, and what do I say to life?

“Oh it’s so overwhelming, I don’t think I deserve it. Why me? Oh dear should I? Could I?”

When instead, I should be saying:

“About time bitch.”

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About Mel

Montreal queer fiction writer.

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