Creative Destruction
Life seems to be a series of steps, not a ramp. Very few things appear to be continuous and, more often than not, are marked by events that completely change your life.
Moving out of your parents' house, out of the city, the country, or even changing professions or languages, destroys everything you know. It’s basically teleportation to another dimension. The funny thing is that we think we are still the same person, just with a different set of circumstances.
I would argue that we are not. We also get destroyed in the process. Like Wile E. Coyote, we’ve already fallen off the cliff but haven’t yet looked down. We float in the air for a few seconds, and then gravity does the rest.
Children are this destructive force multiplied by 100 and played on a loop. Just when you think you’ve figured it out, they change, leaving everything you thought you knew one step below. You need to keep stepping up after them, forever.
Going downstairs feels very awkward. I experience it when I visit my mother and sleep in my old room—nothing fits anymore. After the nostalgia fades, I always start to miss my other life, the current one, the real one.
That "me" is dead, destroyed the moment I left home in search of a brighter future. There is only dust and half-faded memories. But sometimes, in the house, I’m possessed by the feeling of hugging my younger self and telling him everything will work out just fine. That feeling is usually dissipated by the urge to slap him in the face and ask him not to be an idiot.
He doesn’t exist anymore. He was destroyed, and in his place, he created me. I will do the same in the next cycle.
DasFrettchen
npub1xg…7qher
2024-09-17 19:05:40
Author Public Key
npub1xg94gccm0fj2qq2ng2jnl8tfzd3y9wewqf3eatgytq45zygvqmmsg7qherSeen on
wss://nostr.cro.socialPublished at
2024-09-17 19:05:40Event JSON
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"content": "Creative Destruction\n\nLife seems to be a series of steps, not a ramp. Very few things appear to be continuous and, more often than not, are marked by events that completely change your life.\n\nMoving out of your parents' house, out of the city, the country, or even changing professions or languages, destroys everything you know. It’s basically teleportation to another dimension. The funny thing is that we think we are still the same person, just with a different set of circumstances.\n\nI would argue that we are not. We also get destroyed in the process. Like Wile E. Coyote, we’ve already fallen off the cliff but haven’t yet looked down. We float in the air for a few seconds, and then gravity does the rest.\n\nChildren are this destructive force multiplied by 100 and played on a loop. Just when you think you’ve figured it out, they change, leaving everything you thought you knew one step below. You need to keep stepping up after them, forever.\n\nGoing downstairs feels very awkward. I experience it when I visit my mother and sleep in my old room—nothing fits anymore. After the nostalgia fades, I always start to miss my other life, the current one, the real one.\n\nThat \"me\" is dead, destroyed the moment I left home in search of a brighter future. There is only dust and half-faded memories. But sometimes, in the house, I’m possessed by the feeling of hugging my younger self and telling him everything will work out just fine. That feeling is usually dissipated by the urge to slap him in the face and ask him not to be an idiot.\n\nHe doesn’t exist anymore. He was destroyed, and in his place, he created me. I will do the same in the next cycle.",
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