We're all so goddamned special aren't we? Everyone I know is an artist, a musician, a philosopher, a writer, an actor, a director, a dancer, and sometimes all of these things at once. Myself included. I'm probably the worst offender of all. It'd be a real shame if we didn't share our unique and profound minds with the world, if we didn't "express ourselves" (probably one of the most vile phrases in the language). I'm not sure, but I suspect that real art isn't about self-expression at all and that self-expression is basically a form of masturbation.
And what will happen to us? Some will be ground up and packaged and earn a lot of money making advertisements. Some will live in once-grand Victorian mansions furnished with soggy old couches and grimacing bookshelves, blocks from the colleges where we teach. Others will vomit up our creativity in the morning with last night's beer and go wait tables. Some will frequent coffee houses and grow so fat in the head with smarm and knowledge that we will barely fit through the holes of our turtlenecks. A handful of us might actually have something brilliant and original to say, and will be completely miserable for it.
I don't know if I could live any other way.
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