[Written around 2004.]
The world loves the conventional. No one attacks you. No one hates you. No one criticizes you. No one rejects you. No one steps on your toes while at the same time accusing you of stepping on theirs.
But the conventional are dead. They were long since routed out of the best of themselves. They were long since hated and criticized and civilized into soul-numbing defeat. They were long since divorced from the best their potential had to offer. Their now-loving parents once injected poison into their veins.
This prepared them for life in the soft lane. This prepared them for conventional work, conventional relationships, conventional parenthood, conventional life expectancies, conventional nights of warm sleep, and conventional perspective. The sick take care of their own.
But so do the healthy. The healthy freely share of their gifts. The healthy know greater truth, because they nurture their relationship with their deepest selves. The healthy don’t love you because you are dead. They healthy love you for your spark.
The healthy are not your parents. Your parents love your placid success because it reminds them every day how good of a job they did in trimming off the sharp edges of your radical truth. Your deadness proves to them that they are worthwhile people, because they are dead too.
Our world doesn’t need more conventional people. Our world is a mess, and we need a new breed of super-people to rise from the ashes of the old and truly call this stinking garbage dump of lies by its rightful name.