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.

The hero of my life

• I dreamed of being an actor, being famous, making an impact on the world. As I've grown older I've changed my thoughts about how I could best impact the world. Somewhere along the way I lost the lot. I lost that burden, the expectation and hope, the pain and the confidence, that drive for success and the certainty of belief. I lost everything but the memory of my dream and the abstract idea that perhaps the unfulfillment of this remembered dream is an indication of failure. But I'm 25 years old, how can I be a failure? I haven't hurt too many people; I'm happy. There's a gap where my ambition grew for years. There's a translucent, ethereal form in its place, more of a potentiality than a passion. It looks a little different and as I said it isn't quite manifest, but maybe it could be. Can I be bothered pursuing this dream, now that I've got all this peace and happiness? Perhaps I've got to do something with my life; I'm likely to last another 60 years with all this new-found healthiness. What do I do with it?

• Some believe the world will end on 2012-12-21, some believe Jesus Christ Himself could emerge from the clouds at any moment, specifically when no one's looking. Some believe we'll destroy the world ourselves with aggression or carbon. Some think China will shoot all our satellites out of the sky or the computers won't know what day it is and thus our complex network of technology will collapse, leading to chaos and desolation. Some believe reptilian aliens have already taken over our planet and imprisoned us mentally into a routine of production and consumption. Whatever happens, however the world may or may not or has ended, I don't mind. I won't regret anything, I won't feel fear any more than my body requires to protect me. I won't hide from the potential of a change that will revolutionise life as we know it and may unlock the power I hold in reserve within the depths of my illusory individuality. I don't regret life, nor do I resent reality. I am prepared for anything, even that which I may not be strong enough to survive.

• I've found desire to be very painful. What is more palpable and present than another human being? What is more beautiful and intense than desire for the entirety of another person? How can any achievement or possession compare to the desire for profound communion with that one specific other human being for whom your desire is focused? And when the desired person is finally in your arms, what comes after that? Perhaps this desired other human being must become an achievement or a possession. Perhaps there is some way of merging these two entities into a single organism. Perhaps it's too painful to stare into the eyes of the other and not coalesce. Perhaps separation is the only subsequent possibility. This suggests that perhaps there was another less painful way of accepting, incorporating and releasing this desire, a way without so much confusion and frustration, without banging heads into walls or collapsing in inebriation. Perhaps we're contained within the structure of our bodies until the next life, and then anything could happen.

• I have found a place from which anything is possible and anywhere is accessible. It is a new feeling, to know that the world is reachable, that no more than a day off the ground would take us anywhere. What do you do when you get to the point where you realise that internally and externally you are capable of anything you desire? With the simple requirement of actually wanting to do it, you can. There's no way of failing in this sense, because the achievement and the benefit is bound merely in the first step, in the attempt. Surely there can be no fear or apprehension beyond that first step; surely regret or failure are illusory once the foot has stepped, despite uncertainty and apathy. Surely the only worthwhile action in life is to risk. How can there be anything that's not worth the risk when we all know for certain that at any moment we could die, at some moment we will, and that we can't take anything with us into the complete unknown? I won't linger on the risks I face every day merely stepping outside.