Mail presented that red number that tells me I have an e-mail, and being one of those rare individuals that hasn't even attracted the attention of the spammers, I was delighted. Yes, most of my e-mails are scheduled billing notifications, the occasional "I just posted" from a few bloggers, and an occasional letter to my wife from one of the twins, but every now and then I get a comment on my blog and the pleasure of having been noticed is somewhat akin to a very mild buzz, the kind of buzz I rely totally on memory these days, since I gave up drugs almost before I even tried them.
Anyway, it was from Buffalo, not simply as a comment, but an invocation to post something, since it seems I missed inflicting the blogging public with my musings for several days. That suggestion that someone actually desires to see something new from me is more of an honor than most people could understand, especially coming from an individual such as Buffalo, whom I have come to admire and respect, probably for my own unique, twisted reasons. We think an awful lot alike for two people who are probably nothing alike in reality. Whatever, I appreciate the boot in my ass he has so thoughtfully provided, so blame him for todays' observation.........hehe.
Today I am going to give free reign to a horrifying question that has haunted me from time to time for several years. Have I EVER had an original thought? Try as I might, I cannot answer that question in the affirmative. I've invented nothing. I've never written a song (although I might can score a point on that one since I am not a musician). I've written countless lines of poetry, written many posts to my blog, but is any of it anything more than a rearrangement of everything that I have taken in through my ears and eyes? Have I EVER produced ANYTHING totally new under the sun?
Dark Side of the Moon (Pink Floyd)......THAT was original. The transistor......original. The internal combustion engine....Ditto.
Does my brain, unique as it may be, even have the capacity to originate anything that the countless tons of grey matter that's come and gone before me hasn't already brought forth to the collective consciousness? I scour my memory for anything, just one idea that I know came from ME and I find nothing, nothing at all. This is distressing, because unless I am mistaken, what is my purpose? What justifies my existence? What have I contributed beyond mere motor function that serves any purpose?
Lord knows my mind is like a hamster on a wheel. I do exercise my intellect, such that it is, but to what end? Even if my grandest accomplishment was to take someone else's idea and improve upon it, that might give me some sense of satisfaction.
This might sound like some shade of depression making it's way into my blog, and yes, I do have reasons on a daily basis to be depressed, but it really is more of a valid question I find important to ask myself rather than an exercise in self-flagellation. I can be very judgmental of others, questioning their use of valuable oxygen, but I do recognize that as a shortcoming that needs to be controlled. Perhaps as I stare at the big five oh, I find it much easier to question my own bad habit of breathing without necessarily earning the right. I am very envious of those who find peace with themselves, but nothing irritates me more than those who inflate their own particular importance in the grand scheme of things. I guess what I am saying is this........I do not fear death, but I do fear the answer that sums it all up in the end; Did I matter?
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