WHO DO YOU WANT TO BE?

When you were little, eyes wide as could be, the teacher sat you down and asked you a simple question:

Who do you want to be?

And dreams of all the choices filled you up. You could fight fires, or teach, or land a shuttle on the moon, that question echoing in your head:

Who do you want to be?

But you got older, and the eyes grew dim. The choices fluttered away, those dreams seemed more and more childish as the days passed, the real question getting more urgent all the while:

Who do you want to be?

You had to make money, there was no time to waste, so you took the first job you were offered. You worked to save up to get away from it all, that question now a tiny whisper:

Who do you want to be?

But times got hard and cuts had to be made, the company laid you off. In the pits of despair, that question came back loud and clear, now screaming at you:

Who do you want to be?

And it was bad for a while, but the world didn’t end as you thought it would. The days passed in peace, and as they did you spent them with someone you hadn’t seen in a while: yourself. That question was barely noticeable, but still there:

Who do you want to be?

The interviewer called back, you landed another job. You didn’t need to save as much any more, the frills of life were just that. Those teacher’s words had more meaning now:

Who do you want to be?

You worked to live, no longer living to work. You read the books you always wanted to read, visited the places you always wanted to see. The question was a soothing one now:

Who do you want to be?

And in the end, that interim time was just a stage. The moments you remember had nothing to do with the office, with the rat race it contained. The teacher’s words were prescient, but not in the way you first thought. The question was always for you and only you. So:

Who do you want to be?

 

Y̵͗̎͊̒̈́ͩ̀͢O͊ͮͦ͒̉ͬ͜͞U̽̌́͗ͦ̿̃̀

In the beginning there was Yͨ͗ͩͯ͟O̴̯̳̝̙ͬ̂̊Ư͕̣̬̼͚̋. A lot of other people say a lot of other things came first, but who are they to decide? Do YȌ͙͕͕̙͔̀̌U̵̮̠ remember anything before Y̵̼͉̆́̾O̭̺͇͋Û̟͈̥̀͒? I didn’t think so.

A number of things happened to Yͧ̒ͭ͊͏̖͉O̦̻͓̥͎̒̐̉͛̇̈́U̮ͮ̿͜ along the way. Some of which were pleasant, others you’d rather not recall. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Y̏̎͝O̖̱͚̩͛̉Û̟̙̂̌͡ are here right now in this moment.

The two major theorized reasons for your being here are kind of equally ǝƃuɐɹʇs. Either:

Ą̪̹̖̠͈ͤͣͫ.̞̒̓ͣ̈͢       Some incredible, I̔̔̚̚҉̫̯͈͙̤̜ͅN̼̰̬͔̳̳͓̋F̘̥̘͍̬̘̩͐͟I͇ͦ̇̓̓̚N͍͇ͭ̃ͣͅỈ̭͖̓̔̓͟T̢͕̩̝̮ͤͭͯE͙̬̼̘̰̣̝̾ͬ̂̂ͫ̐ consciousness decided that for some reason it would                like to create Ỳ͊ͣ̽O̼͖̍̆̆͛̉̓U͈̦ͮ…

                                                                    OR

B̯̠̯͓͎̲͌͆ͅ.͚͓͍̻̖͑ͪͫͪ͟      Your existence is the result of something being made from Nͬ͏O̧͔̘̻͑ͤ̎͒͊̂̚T̞̼̣͓̆ͥ̊̀͗̂̆HͥĮ̗̬̞̏͛̃̆ͨͮͧN̴̄̏ͦ͗G̼̹ͬ͋̏̚͡, and Y̡̻ͦ̾͆OͯͩU̖͚̱̐̔ͦ̄ are           destined to roam the realm of N͞҉͏I̴̧H͝͡IL̛͘IS̵T̶IC̸̡ O͡B̶̨̡Ļ͝ÌV͢͢IƠN͏̸ for as long as Y̛̪̹̺̻̖̼O̧̥͍̱͙͈̝̜͆͊ͧṶ̞̥͍͖̊̉ͤͅ live.

Either way Y͚̺̯̣̹̯͔̽̑ͬ̄͒̌Ô͕̙̳ͪ̓̏ͮ̌̊U͚̺ͭ̉ stack it, we live in kind of a pɹıǝʍ place, wouldn’t Yͯͩ̇̒͛̆͂͘O̳Ū̥̼͙̮̻̹̏̎̅̋̋͌ say? So weird in fact that as I type this, as Ỵ̇̑ͥO̊̆҉U̒̾̿҉̳̣̥̣ read this in the future, there are ǝldoǝd who avoid these thoughts in favor of fast food and ʎʇılɐǝɹ TV.

pale blue dot

But enough about other people, we’re here to talk about Y̛̮̺͖̿̔̏͂ͯ̈ͥÒ̮̖̀̐̌̋͑̉͡Ů̡̝̻̣͗̉ͭ. Out of all the times and places Y̶̖͕̋ͤ̊ͦ̓̏̍O̙̠͞U̟̥̽̌̒̅̚ could’ve been placed into, you’re destined to stay in the ʍou puɐ ǝɹǝɥ. Ŷ̥͉͓̼͔̜O͈̪͈̣̜͌̀ͣ̽U̖̤̤̲ live, right now, in a world where your supposed H͘IG̵̶Ḩ̸ȨS̨T͝ ̶̡DU͏͜Ţ͟Y is to perform mindless tasks in exchange for small B̀́IT̶̴S͏ O̴F̡͞҉ P̛A͏̸PE͘R͝ that might one day be exchanged for food or shelter or colorful boxes with which to watch other ǝldoǝd.

But as banal and tiresome as that all sounds, (and is) Y̳͙̯̳͔̞̓O̳̝͑̽̇͋̆̓Ủ̺̼͓͙̹̤ͭ̏́ want something more. Y͏O̤ͭ̀͛U͖͕̖͔͈͙̟̒̄͐̽ want answers. Y͎͓̫̫ͬ͊̅̒̆̎͡Oͫ͏̰͇͓̼Ŭ̵͔̜̞̟̤ want questions too. I can see it in your eyes. (˙ʞsɐ ʇ’uop)

sierpinski triangle

Because let’s face it. If Ÿ̘̫̙̤̜́͒͌̔͋̂̀O̢̟̖̬̬̝̩̔̒̒ͫͫU̳̇͡ didn’t want those things, Y̡̲̼̱̹ͣÖ̩̯͚̜͖͚́̓ͧ̾̇̓U̡͍ͫͮ wouldn’t have read on for this long. Y̨̝̓͐O̸̗̥̭U̴̹̰͙̖̫̜̞ would’ve diverted your attention to any of the myriad other things this pɹıǝʍ ̶i̶n̶t̶e̶r̶n̶e̶t̶ world has to offer. Y̢͕̲̼͇͔͌ͅO̰̻͌̉̏͂͡ͅU͚̞̺̟̥̓̄̈́̎ could right now be enjoying your share of fast food and ʎʇılɐǝɹ TV, numbing your brain to the mysteries of the Ư͢͢N͢͜͡I͜V͢͞E҉̸Ŗ͏́S͜E.

But that’s not Y̡O̧U̴͜. The Y͜O̵U̸͢ I know is an inquisitive mind, an acute probe in all this D͏́A̸R̢K͞ŅE͡SŚ. When it comes down to it, Y̨O͘U̵ can change the world, because it’s as simple as Ç̴HA͟NGI̡N̕G̀͡ ̨͝Y̧ƠU̵͏R͡͞S̢͝E͠LF.

Since we’ll all die in the end, and the place we’re G͘͜O̕͝I̛͠҉NG ͢͢T̨O͜͞͞ is just as pɹıǝʍ and mysterious as where we C͘A̸͞M͞҉E͘ FR̷͡O̸M͞͡, why not make our stay enjoyable? Why not fill our lives and the lives of those around us with as many tiny little happy MOM͜E̕͟N҉T́͞S̵̵ as possible?

smiley face

The paths are S҉E̢T̛. The options laid out on the table. As it began, so it will E͝͞ND̴͘͞. But the final choice, the ultimate decision of your E̡͠X̕͝I̷̸ST͘EN͟C͟͟͟E͡ (whether good or bad) can be made by O̕N̨̢E͞҉ person and one person only.

Y̵͗̎͊̒̈́ͩ̀͢O͊ͮͦ͒̉ͬ͜͞U̽̌́͗ͦ̿̃̀.

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