A Man Alone

Originally Posted Tuesday, June 23, 2013

The trouble with natural talent is that often it is not developed.  The naturally talented are often so good without trying that they never really feel the need to.  Why work hard just to develop that last ten or fifteen or twenty percent?  The talent could be either physical or intellectual.  But it is always a crisis of spirit. 

I am speaking of myself, of course (link).  And most of my friends. 

But this is the self-portrait that N and A clamored for in yesterday's comment section.  I know it may shock you, but, yes, I am that man alone in the cosmos, talented but paralyzed by hopelessness but stoic, too.  What does it matter, any of it, whether we rise or fall, succeed or fail. . . we are all just matter floating in the big void.  Yes. . . I am this man, born to pleasure and pain, happiness and suffering.  A natural talent, too proud, too humble.  I am that man alone (without a bloody chance). 

O.K.  That was strained.  Really, really strained.  It comes from reading too much Colin Wilson in my youth when I should have been reading Horatio Alger or The Hardy Boys.  It is Q's fault for writing his post about softball.  It is those damn women's fault who wanted a self-portrait of me.  It is my fault for returning to the factory. 

Sometimes, bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth, we just strike out.