Random philosphical story I wrote.

[Depression101]

I dunno. I just wrote it in like fifteen minutes. I don't know if it's any good, I guess. Whatever...


----

John Sornas looked for things wrong in his life. He was a writer and wanted to be one ever since he was forced to conform in school, ever since he was abused by the system. His hatred for authority fueled his creative energy and he wrote. John knew that good art stems from misery: “Misery is not born from books. Books are born from misery”. And John cherished the fact that he was as depressed as the writers he loved, as the writers whose struggle he could feel through their work. But, a string of coincidences led to him being unschooled. He spend all of his free time reading and writing. On his eighteenth birthday John set off for New York City. Once he shacked up in a mediocre apartment in the roaring heart of the city, John found himself oddly empty, devoid of things to write about. He eventually wrote a pulpy western book where he tried to fit in themes of oppression, rebellion and freedom; the books was success and brought John fame, fortune, fans and happiness. He wrote another novel and it received great reviews and hit the bestseller charts, and it brought John more fans, fame and fortune, and happiness. Once, when John was sipping scotch in a bar, a friend approached him, and said “Loved your new book, Johnny boy. But I wish you would stop trying to include all these life-changing messages and all. I mean, they’re good and all if you’re writing a literary piece, but they’re just no good for the type you write.”

“You don’t think I’m a literary writer?” John asked.

“Man, you can’t be serious. You’re no Bradbury, or Orwell. You’re great at writing pulpy fiction but you won’t change the history of literature, dude.”

“I always wanted to go down in history, and I think I’d have killed myself if that wasn’t possible.”

“Well, everything’s possible,” said the friend, with a concerned grimace; “But you don’t always have to be a Fitzgerald. Not everybody’s born with a gift, Johnny, my boy. You’re great, but you won’t ever win a Pulitzer or Nobel, you’ll be out of print ten years after you're dead. If not sooner.”

“Well, I guess you're right,” John said, ordering another scotch.

Ten years later John was still alive and his books always hit the stores. But they were the type of books that gather dust on bookstore shelves until someone waiting for the new Stephen King or the new Penguins Classics buys them, not even knowing who wrote it. They’re airplane books, the type you read when you’re bored and have nothing to do. You always remember: “Oh, that books I read on the flight to Oregon, I loved. Wait, what was it’s name…” And you never can remember. The type of books John despised, he penned. And it depressed him: he never wanted a happy, uneventful life when you couldn’t write about anything truthfully, when you never had anything to say.

Somebody once said depression was like watching your life crumble away as you watched, powerless to do anything about it. That’s how John felt as he stood, drunk, on the bridge running out of New York City to a quieter region. John, never realizing he had the perfect thing to write about, took a plunge into the raging water fathoms below. Two hundred people attended the funeral, newspapers announced that a celebrated author had died, publishers used the publicity to peddle more copies, and, ten years after the fact, no one knew who John Sornas was.

[James Comey]

Yikes, sounds like psychological projection :/.

On the story itself: it's pretty interesting how death makes people much more greater than they really are. I guess part of it is our way of feeling bad, or just the idea that the author in question is not alive to produce their craft anymore.

Actually back in the 90s The Notorious BIG wasn't considered one of the greatest, but rather the potential to become great. He was romanticized after he died, same with 2Pac actually.

Many artists seem to share this same fate. Only after they die, is their greatness ever truly recognized. It's almost insulting.

[Depression101]

True. I listened to a bit of both. Definitely liked Biggie's "Juicy".

[James Comey]

It helps when after their deaths hip hop decidedly went to shit.

[Username]

(05-21-2017 10:52 AM)Hansgrohe Wrote:  It helps when after their deaths hip hop decidedly went to shit.

>hip hop
>not rap

there's your problem right there

[James Comey]

Tell that to John Steinbeck.

Shame, because Of Mice and Men is fucking awesome.

[Depression101]

I thought John Steinbeck was a great author and I was excited to read him. Then, in school, we read The Pearl. Now I cannot bring myself to look at his name nor can I fairly judge any of his work without bias created by school.

[James Comey]

Why even have books required by school anyway? Why not choose our own, at our own pace?

[brainiac3397]

because how would you know what you want if nobody told you, duh

(sarcasssm)

[James Comey]

Moral of the story, forced reading sucks.