When I was in high school, I believed in a magic stronger than god (or gods or angels or aliens or whatever your particular religion ascribes to). I buried myself in fantasy novels and the Harry Potter-verse, utterly convinced that there was a deeper, brilliant, more clandestine magic in the world that I just wasn’t privy to (although I hoped I might be worthy, one day). I envisioned falling into a hole one day and discovering my latent magical powers, and embarking on wild adventures and discovering everything.
I saw that impossible magic as the ticket out of my tedium, and, subsequently, as the medium through which I would exact the changes I wanted to see in the world. That magic buoyed the ferocity with which I approached a world aching for fresh air from the unfairness, the pollution, the crime, the hate. I wanted to change the world, and I would do it once I had the power to.
The desire to change the world hasn’t faded, although the means by which I could do it, I still have no idea. Certainly I want to be important somehow – I want to launch some sort of upheaval to define my generation, to make us all believe in something again (as if we don’t already) – but I don’t know how, and sometimes I even have to question why I bother. I think that’s more a desperation to mean something to anything, particularly in a world that tries so hard to grind you down.
I read somewhere that it isn’t enough to be important to someone – rather, it is necessary to be important to a great deal of people in order to manifest a change that is intrinsically larger than oneself. Can one’s ambition reach so high? If so, what benefits and consequences will one reap in seeking to bring about a change greater than oneself?
The issue here is the desire, I think. I believe it was a luminescent xkcd comic that espoused the belief, “You become great by wanting to do something, and then doing it so hard that you become great in the process.”
I want to do something, but I don’t know what. I think that’s my own personal tragedy. I seek to change the world using my words and my words don’t seem to mean much lately. The magic that I once believed in has escaped me – or maybe it’s just in some other form that I have yet to grasp. Maybe it’s within me, idealistically speaking. Maybe I’m too young to realize how disillusioned I am. Maybe I’m too young to be disillusioned.
I think it’s time for a change, either way.