How I tell my story.

Everything that's been written up to now has meaning in its own right.  But, there is a story to be told, and this is all a part of that too.

You might have noticed a lot of posts that relate back to previous posts, or build up to a larger post.  Yes, the story was somewhat meant to be read in order, just not as much as a normal story I suppose.

The story could be told in many ways, none of which were inaccurate.  A single event could be described as a huge, life-defining moment, despite being something that could also be thought of as being fairly ordinary, or an event could be overlooked despite being something that might be considered important.

I never really focused as much on people's appearances and on details of the surroundings, preferring instead to pay attention to thoughts and emotions and abilities.  So, in a way, the story up to now has been describing the "setting."  This post is what I would call...

The end of part 1 of the introduction.

The past blends into the present, and maybe provides a hint to the future.  I look back at the story lines that have finished and can bring back a lot of feelings.  Contradictory ones, like always.  It was all so insane, so epic, so pointless, so awful.  It was all a mistake.  The things I did, the things I didn't do.  The world shouldn't have been allowed to run like that.  But maybe, maybe I didn't really make that many mistakes.  It all depended on what you considered "wrong."

I was someone who could accomplish the impressive without really trying, and often did.  The thing with that was, if you wanted a reason to try, you weren't going to find it as easily from outside; you had to look into yourself.

Introspection revealed a tumultuous peace.  A descent into insanity or perhaps a rise to perfect logic.  You see, I always thought it was better not to be so confident that you are right about things, about the world.  I guess you could say I thought this was right.  And, believing myself to be right, I followed the path to the extreme.  I finally admitted that I myself wasn't right, and with that, I reached the end of the path.

A part of me said to go back.  If this was what it meant to be, well, not wrong, then maybe I didn't care about being wrong at all!  Living that life, existing in such a manner, it made me understand how much I gained from such a personality, which really was quite a bit.  It also made me realize how much I lost, which was quite a bit also.  I struggled to find motivation, desire, a reason, a passion...

I guess you could say I lost my purpose.

Or, maybe, there was never such a thing as an individual "purpose" at all.

The only hope for finding a purpose came from a part of me that would never stop believing in my own ability to change.  I would overcome this, and any other problem that faced me.  This was the part of me that, often foolishly, would never admit defeat.  Who cares if there was no such thing as a purpose?!  Who cares if it never existed at all!  I would MAKE my own!!!, and I would make it a reality.  I don't care if it "can't be done!"  I will find an answer.  This problem, like any other problem, was just a challenge to look forward to.

Because...

I was someone who strived to accomplish the impossible, and maybe had some special talent to do so.  Yes, that was me, and this is my story.