i think that, behind every nod towards humility, every concession of limitation, there is a hope of greatness; there is the belief that we can strive to attain it, that unrealistic expectations are improbable, not impossible.

but what is greatness? why does it even matter? my favorite books so often remind me that we all can be only who we are, no more, no less. and yet they are stories of impossibly rare, impossibly great people, those with natural ability that cannot be won.

it matters because it gives a sense of purpose. it is the thickness of the wisps of talent that carries us, admonishes us for not elevating ourselves. it is the idea of greatness that can shake us out of our complacency, make us fight for the opportunity to prove ourselves. it is the belief that meaning and progress are inseperable.

it all sounds so arrogant. i know there is greatness in the smallest acts, the simplest gestures. why is it so tragic to see the fuzziness in the horizon, the outline of the thoughts that are just beyond reach? it is an infuriating sort of weakness, to see clearly some of what i cannot conceptualize, like railing against an invisible cell. and for what? for accomplishment? no. what good is accomplishment, unless it helps someone else? it is for satisfaction. i am comfortable with ambiguity. i am much less comfortable with stupidity.

it is not that i want to be great. it's just that i want to believe i have a chance. not for the sake of being great, but for the sake of progress. i want to know that the steps i'm taking aren't futile, that my life will be more than a collection of hedonistic instants in time. i want to see the soul that connects my own actions, a wholeness of purpose.

and underneath it all, what scares me the most is forgetting what matters the most. in some sense, i feel like if i give up on any part of my idealism, i am giving up on all of it. something about these days feels mechanical, like i'm numbly going through the motions. and there's no reason for that. i've been having some great times. but sometimes they feel shallow and incomplete. intellectualism be damned, but dear god, please don't let me ever forget how to care deeply, sincerely, passionately. i can live with being dumb, as long as i don't become jaded too.

in the end, i guess i just need to remember not to be afraid. after all, all you need is love.

now that, my friends, is greatness.