It’s not a Christmas present. It won’t be opened tomorrow. I figure it’s some time after the New Year.
Going out on a limb here: I have sensed for several years a calling to something hidden in the mists beyond my conscious sight. My mind attempts to interpret the clues based on what it knows, what it has experienced and remembers. As you might expect, that results in a confused jumble of discordant images. I have no doubt some of my writing here reflects that confusion.
At the same time there has burned a driving passion, pushing me forward in the darkness of the unseen future. Sure, I could offer an opinion of what I see. My mind is pretty sure it has to do with my work with computers, that writing the Debian book was in some way preparatory. I have no doubt at all that my drive toward fitness is critical to this thing, but I can’t begin to guess why.
All the same, the human side has doubts. It could as easily be more of my own peculiar madness. Goodness knows, it’s been with me for so long, making me feel completely out of place. No matter what I have done in the past two decades, I’ve always known deep inside I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. I engaged what was in front me, but it was often no more that time filler. Something is simply not quite right, and I can’t identify it. It could be my wild imagination and no more.
But I’m quite sure I’d be completely dead in spirit if I didn’t keep moving forward toward this thing, even if it’s nothing. Deciding it was simply nonsense would be death, making me an empty shell of a person, a zombie.
I’d rather be nuts.
