Naked and spectacular

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The king of my life

  • I feel like a king sometimes when I know I have achieved something valuable. When I've used my gift of language to touch someone deeply. When I speak my compositions to a crowd and feel the inaudible gasp. I feel like a humble king, like Jesus Christ. I feel, maybe, like the embodiment of God; or maybe the embodiment of myself, finally. At these moments my world brightens, opens like a camera lens letting in more light until I feel the flares of bliss and the over-exposure of abundance. At these moments everything makes sense, simply because I have something to do, I know my purpose in life, and I'm doing it. I charge home to tell my friends. I am met with warm smiles and apathy. One is happy for me; another has always known his purpose; another doesn't know what I'm talking about. I get up in the morning and have the same breakfast and wonder what to do with the rest of my day - the whole world is open to me! I know why I'm here! The light fades as a cloud obscures the sun.
  • I have felt from a young age that one day I will wear the crown of success. My vision of what this crown will look like has changed and really I don't know what success is or how to get it. Maybe every mother tells her son he's special, but I believed her; despite the pessimism of the world I have accrued evidence to support her assertion, my desperate hope that my internal specialness will become manifest in the world, evident for all to see. I believe I will wear this crown proudly, with integrity and humility. The day I find myself crowned by a bastardised post-apocalyptic human race I will undoubtedly be ready to accept my humble leadership with vivacity. In the meantime I find myself in a society that prefers leaders that cannot be liked and cannot be trusted. I struggle to find my place in a society that is largely deaf to my possible futile, possibly profound mutterings. I have two memories, one from the past, one unsubstantiated from the future, in which I am amongst people who listen and understand; today I merely jot words in a notebook.
  • Despite my attempts to blur the borders and escape definition, I consider myself a writer and a performer. This is where I have found my strength, this is where I feel I have achieved. In 2004, at the age of 20, I published a short poem in my university magazine. Thinking I was making a revealing joke I was surprised to find I did not merely touch, but bit down on an unexamined nerve. A growing immigrant minority in our society faced secret silent resentment until my poem blatantly stated the banal ignorance of PC-coated racism. What reaction could the university perform but a united opposition to discrimination? Some achievements are more subtle than others and I will never forget the fourth and final performance of my most precious play. With the laughter diminished and the actors calmer I silently cried at the beauty of successfully communicating my vision to my collaborators and my audience. Right now the past and past achievements aren't good enough. I sit here wondering how to explain the hope invested in my third achievement, that which drives me with excitement into the future.
  • I'll admit my crown sits on the mantelpiece in the symbolic living room I usually refer to as "my life". One day I know it'll be time to wear it but presently I only try it on occasionally when no one's looking, to make sure it still fits. Often I don't even bother packing it when I leave the house, cynically doubting I'm likely to come across anyone who would not scoff or mock my glory. I don't often feel glorious enough to wear it. But the more I see what this crown doesn't represent the closer I get to the me that will wear this crown any day, before any audience or companion. I explore the space I share with those I love and question who will or will not break my legs when they see me in my naked crowned erect glory; who will marvel at my unexplainable ability to get taller and who will hoist me to the place I know is mine to occupy. Some people expect of me behaviour I'm not aggressive enough to contradict. These people will fade from my life inevitably. Some accept every incarnation and will share each one with me.

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