The World as Texas Pt. 1

Every day, we are assaulted by people explaining why the world is about to end. I like to put it to the test from time to time and just see if we should be worried.

The Dream Machine

Bear with me, I'm being metaphorical.

There is the great machine we call Humanity. At times it is beautiful and at times it is horrid. It is ever growing and changing, often at odds with itself, but always dedicated to a single purpose: building dreams. We are, each of us, parts in this machine working together towards that purpose, our dreams of colored glass glittering beneath the sun as the machine whirs and grinds its way onward. These dreams are often fragile, poorly designed, and fall apart long before they can be completed, but some rise to scrape the sky and the clouds in the sky are rent in two to flow around them. Some are plain, but others so beautiful that we gasp in awe at the inspiration of their architects. Each of us finds a place within the machine. It’s not a matter of faith or destiny, just mathematical certainty that in a construct so great, a place must exist for each of us.

As for me, I am twenty-two, and I feel as if my life up until now has been nothing but a search for my place in this machine, and I have not found it. An accident of genetics has convinced the people I care about that I'm supposed to save the world some way or another, and I've humored that viewpoint for most of my life. But I'm done with that nonsense. I like danger, fighting, and that feeling that comes right after surviving something that should have killed me. I plan to live my life, even it kills me. So, I am leaving grad school and striking out to see what dreams this world might show me. I hope to show you, from here, what I find.