From Ideas to Stories

Lately, I've been thinking a lot of ideas. A lot.

A few weeks ago, July 4th actually, I was with friends out in Chelsea, and jotted this down on my iPhone: "I like thinking many ideas, but I don't know that I'd put many of them into practice, or sincerely believe in those thoughts/ideas. I think of too many [ideas] to indiscriminately accept all of them [as Truth]."

So, I've had all these ideas, but I've yet to bring them to light. Mostly because I don't know how to bring them to light. My ideas are incomplete, and the only way to make them complete, or somewhere near completion, I would have to write them down, or speak them aloud. I hate doing that. I hate speaking before I'm really sure of what I mean; what I really believe.

Of what have I been thinking?

For starters, beginning sentences with prepositions is a great grammar-release!

Okay, okay, okay.

My thoughts have generally leaned towards the state of humanity.

"Oh, how perfectly vague."

"I know."

But if I become any more specific I promise you, I will go back to the state of humanity, which I am sure, as we all observe, is in a constant state of flux and discontent. Those who are content are so because they know what it is to be discontent.

Hello, Humanity. I'm glad to greet you like an old friend.

But since I don't want to overthink, or rethink, or drag on for too long, I've decided it best to illustrate any ideas or thoughts I have with stories. I don't know why it took me so long to acknowledge this. Every other author and writer has!

Whatever made me think I was better at writing essays than writing vignettes or extended metaphors?

Of all that I've thought this past month I am confident in that idea: that the best way to portray the 'state of humanity' is to illustrate it. To gather up its many images, smells, tastes, words, and feelings, not into some neat little box and leave it there, but for the neat little box to be opened!

Like Pandora's box! But without all the sickness and sin, and horrible things--they're already in the world. Ooh, we don't need more of that.

I know that we learn from our mistakes both in and out of our control, but that does not make me wish bad times upon even the worst of my enemies, and even then, I have no enemies. I live life as though all were friends: yes, it is denial, and yet confirmation that these friends, like my thoughts, though I entertain them, are no less real, or lost, or hungry, or wishful, than I am.

I may not re-open Pandora's Box, but I'll label it for you.

If only all job interviews were like this:

"I promise you that I am not as qualified as you believe me to be."

   "And, and how do you know that?"

   "Because I've read your requirements and qualifications. I don't fit any of them. At all."
   "You are very down on yourself."
   "Yes."
   "Why?"
   "Because-."
   "Did something make you so horrible?"
   "I just am horrible."
   "That's not true. Something had to have made you horrible. Adam and Eve weren't horrible to begin with."
   "I don't like where this is going."
   "I'm not taking it anywhere."
   "I- I promise you: I am not as qualified as you believe me to be."
   "Can't you file things away? Can't you answer phones, make small talk, make people laugh?"
   "Anyone can do those things."
   "Yes, but you think."
   "You're saying that others don't think when they do those things."
   "Not really. Not really thinking when they file things, answer phones, talk small and make people laugh."
   "Then what do they really do when they do those things?"
   "Just those things."
   She sat there silently, staring at the floor space near her interviewer. "But-. I'm not qualified."
   "But you tell the truth."
   "And if you know so much about me, you'll also know that I think truth is overrated, and how long I've thought so! People put too much stock in this thing they call truth, and they don't even know what real truth is! It is true that people all over the world are hurting. It is true that people steal from other people. It is true that he still prefers her to me. It is true that I am still as unqualified as I believe myself to be. All that is true."
   The interviewer stared at her.
   She would not return his gaze. She continued to stare at the floor space around his feet, tracing patterns with her eyes so that she could avoid crying.
   The interviewer frowned, but quickly smiled. "Then you'll also know that this is not the sort of truth I apply to you."
   "What?"
   "You'll know then, that the sort of truth that I ascribe to you has nothing to do with the ugly monster you just applied to mean yourself. You are not that monster."
   "What? Is it the real truth's evil twin?" she snorted.
   The interviewer thought about it, then nodded in agreement. "Yes. That's exactly what it is. An evil twin." The interviewer laughed. "Oh, I need to hire you. When can you start?"
   She looked the interviewer up and down, her emotions running around for her, bewildered and frenzied. "Hire me? Your list of qualifications said you're looking for someone with a Ph.D, or a couple masters' degrees in their back pockets, swimming with heavenly references, expensive internships, and Louis Vuitton suits. Not that there's anything wrong with those things; I often wish I wanted those things. They seem like such good things to want."
   "And that is the only lie you could've told me."
   "I promise you that I am not as qualified as you believe me to be."
   "Do you intend to keep that promise?"
   "Well, I suppose if it's not a biblical promise then it's a promise that's meant to be broken."
   "I want you for the job. Will you take it?"
   "I feel as though I have no choice."
   "Oh. You have a choice, but that is not a feeling. Your feeling, what you're feeling now, is my belief in you. Not my belief in your qualifications or requirements."
   "You left out achievements."
   "You never said 'achievements'."
   "So both your ears do work."
   "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Dress well."
   "I refuse to dress any other way."