Nothing is good enough for my Everything, I sighed.
I do write. Often. Some of that writing is decent enough to submit
to my school's literary magazine with my name attached. I've certainly
had at least 5 pieces in the publication. But.
Everything2 is perfection. I spent 4 years reading before I gathered
the courage to create an account. My sole New Year's resolution this
year was to join Everything2; I joined the
evening of January 1st. It took me about 5 months to post anything, but
it was a good first
step. The newfound chatterbox confirmed my
suspicions: each and every user above level 1 was a cyborg. How else, I reasoned, could each and every thing written be so perfect? Even nodes that gave glimpse into broken lives were flawless and
beautiful; those shards of life littering the ground managed to reflect
joy and paint rainbows onto the surrounding walls. I still cannot
fathom how this many intelligent, articulate people could all discover
one underrepresented website and spend hours upon hours of time
creating and sharing their work with each other. Hence my theory.
I spoke to a trusted friend on this matter, multiple times. She told
me that perhaps something I submitted could be perfect to someone else,
even if it wasn't to me. I thought this over for a bit. Gathered the
courage to submit my first poem written solely for Everything. It was
nuked. So be it, I thought. I knew my writing could not be
perfect. But I tried a couple more times, creating something that
was met with mostly positive reaction. I received a few messages.
Critiques, encouragement... Those were all perfect, too. How is this
I continue to read with vigor, and submit carefully. They are all cyborgs. I hope this is contagious.
Spread your disease?