Had a plan.

I had a plan, once. No alcohol, smoking, drugs, or sex till I was 20, only studying, self-improvement, mental conditioning, accomplishment. Just till 20, at which point I'd try everything one by one, scientifically to see what they were about, soak it all in completely. Then I'd write my magnum opus that would change the world and be a classic forever, informed by all that I'd crammed into me in those frenzied, heady years, built on a foundation prepared to experience them due to endless reading, understanding larger and larger things, seeing structure, laying the groundwork up to that age.

I'd slave away at my masterpiece and be dead by 25. And it would never ever go out of print, not that it would matter to me after that, but it would leave some mark upon a world which otherwise cares nothing about you. Maybe I'd even "crack it" where so many others had tried and failed, or only succeeded in working out a tiny piece. You know what I mean.

That was the plan. Not a very uplifting one I'll admit. So what went wrong? Well I immersed myself in the study of art and philosophy outside of school, science and rhetoric inside of school, and athletics whenever I could just because I love the feel of my body being in motion (I miss it now, the wind in my air, diving for a ball, being totally exhausted, being totally relaxed). I had the sex which was lousy and the drugs which just fucked up my mind, smoked only a few cigarettes which were disgusting, liked drinking okay except you have to come down, which is dumb.

And then I just went off the rails and had a nervous breakdown because life is so impossibly immense and complex that as prepared as I was to be blown away by it all and still keep my hat on and my fingers on my typewriter (metaphorically), and as much as I trained all my life for that time and thought of nothing else, it still blew me away, far away into the land of Oz, and all my ideas seemed the stupider for thinking that one could actually plan a life out like that and become master of everything and find the Truth and then die a satisfied conqueror in some humane fashion.

No, I just got depressed and lost my nerves of steel, and now here I am years later, everything a broken trail of glass and tears and blood (along with some good times) behind me, trying to rebuild myself. Nothing went as expected, as one might expect. No one is mighty enough to take on life and win, not that way.