Overperspiration

In my infinite compressed soul, limitless in emotion, constantly flowing with the rivers, crystal shards spinning in the torrents, each shard would contain the traits of a writer, a composer and even a contemporary artist. Full of unbreakable perspiration, I was eager to obtain every glistening shard in all the lakes, and all the rivers, even the oceans, regardless of the rapid nature of the torrents, the speed and the perspiration of the ocean itself, for my level of perspiration was the total of all the waters in the world; with a surplus. I had the desire to use these shards to form new concepts that must be invented. I didn't merely want to introduce something new; I had the desire to influence every old historical piece and fragment that existed, and remove old concepts from this society because those old concepts were simply, immoral. I was a heartfelt dreamer, but back then, I was only six.

It was longer than I could remember, when existence was white, eternal and holy, lacking not a single drop of nostalgia. Existence was perfectly made, but I wasn't. When I was in elementary school, I failed reading, I was horrible at math, but there was something I had, that nobody else had...Immeasurable creativity, without a limit, superfluous, like cells that reproduce in excess. I knew though, that I was different. Everyone would be reading a book, while I was busy doodling. Everyone would go on with life, while I was busy experimenting. They would talk about how their day went, or where they went for vacation, but I talked about different things; my goals. The teacher would ask me to read something and when I couldn't spell the first word, everyone would laugh. It had felt as if I was thrown in this endless pit, the darkness, covered in layers of pieces of blindness. I was thrown somewhere in which my talents were useless, this perspiration broken and released into the white existence, just like pieces of data erased and never needed again; but then I said" Just you wait and see, I will go the distance!" So I twirled from the tunnel of the infinite and deepest and the darkest and the most enigmatic abyss, hovering and rocketing up, shining in the beaming skylight!

From that day forth, I bowed to become better than anybody. I learned to achieve, and persevere with the inspiration of the cosmetic heavens, I read about Aristotle, I experimented; I came up with preposterous theories, I teleported down those cursed paths, then I flew down these paths, and when I was tired, I drove down these paths, just when I was almost heartbroken, I walked down, but I didn't stop yet; no. I crawled down those paths, and I would find a way to fly again until I got there! I harnessed the power of logic and creativity, both of them, at the same time. I was now an artist and John Nash.

I'd do everything it took to reach my goals, even if I had to ignore all other things of equal importance. I'd use the people around me to my advantage, they were no longer worth, they couldn't compare their work to mine. The only things that I could compare were the works of Van Goh. I envied him, as I stared at his self portrait on the simplified wall, around the portrait, was a wide range of modern paintings, which I ignored completely. It was as if I was standing on the center of the widespread universe with the endless cosmos surrounding me, there were only a few of these stars that interested me, the most known, and the only way to satisfy my ambitious ego was to become the most significant of these cosmos. As I painted, this magical energy, glowed around me, with the eagerness to change culture, social norms and the political state of the world. I envied all the cosmos as I painted, day and night.

This jealousy pushed me to the overreaching limits of the galaxies. When I had surpassed more than half of these cosmos, I realized...that without the power of these lesser stars, I would've never gotten this far. Others around me were struggling, yet they still supported me. I would just push them aside. My parents gave me their most altruistic support. I simply cared about my own healthcare, my economical needs and only about my goals, I then realized, I had gone too far.

So I started to respect the great masters, rather than competing with them, I stared at the portrait of Martin Luther King in wholesome respect. I was still full of perspiration, but in the right way.