School is back again, and it seems like it never left. My perception of time is already beginning to stretch out, which makes me wonder what it's going to be like when I'm say forty or fifty. If I live to be a hundred, like I always wanted, then I can't imagine how ridiculous time will become for me. France is now gone, and so is the break inbetween, and I didn't really get too much done.
That isn't strictly true, of course. I got a lot done. But it doesn't really feel like too much, if only because my perception of things is beginning to change. I worked hard, earned money, did some writing.
It seems strange to me, to realize that the will to power that once flourished in me is gone, and in its place is something far more efficient. The will to power seems to me to be nothing but the delusion of an over-obsessive child. Now that I actually have power, I don't actually care about accumulating it anymore. Now that I write frequently, and well, I never obsess about writing anymore, never think about the fame and the fortune that I plan to make; I just write. It's the same with the gym, because the less I think about my end goals, the faster I come to achieving them. I've made great progress in that field, by the way, in the last few months, as I started taking a weight gainer, and put on about ten pounds of muscle. I'm coming to achieve real mass and definition in my musculature, which is something I'm proud of. In the end, my plan is to reach 200 pounds even, and stay there, as that seems to me to be an ideal bodyweight.
It's strange as well to me, how easily I put up with the struggles and pressures of daily life. I never become emotional much anymore, and react quickly and carefully to any negative developments. It reminds me of the ending of my novel; 'It wasn't anything important, it was just about growing up', or something like that, I don't remember the things that I write with any accuracy.
Looking out and realizing that this is my life, that I'm an adult now, and that I've become set in stone, and won't change much in the long run, is both terrifying, and comforting. I imagine my life, laid out before me now, and nothing will change, and it will be much the same from here on out. I'll write, I'll find a publisher, I'll study books and philosophy, I'll contemplate, and if I make it big, then that has nothing really, to do with me. Fame isn't really something you earn, it's something you're given. I truly wish, like that fourteen year old child in me who once said that he wanted to be the most famous man in the world, that my work will be appreciated, and that I'll earn fame and fortune, for I think no one would do better with them, but growing up was nothing but the realization that I can't count on that. I have to do things as they come, and perhaps that will never come. Perhaps I'll never get a chance to drive around in expensive cars, fuck a lot of women, and be admired by the general populace, but I don't care anymore. I've remained true to my real passion, and nothing else really matters.
The search for a publisher is the main thing I need to focus on, in my life right now, just to get out there. I just need to hit the ground, and I'm ready to run. I also need to do some publicity things, to start getting my name out there. But again, I'm working on it.