Existential Metaplasia


Here’s a concept that I don’t think you can really truly define. Success is relative.

Success on a small scale may be failure on a larger scale. You can pixelize your life all you want and focus on a 4×4 square of your impact on the universe – and yes, you can paint it as success.

But back up a bit, and keep going. Where’s your tiny grey pixel of success in a 1028×768 canvas of charcoal failure?  Where is it in a wall of monitors, all charcoal? Where is it in the universe?


Success doesn’t mean anything.

Ftang! you cry. You’re just excusing your failure!

Failure doesn’t mean anything either.

Society needs us to be classified, documented, filed. Everyone in their right place.

Existence, however, deals in mutation and change.

Yesterday I was a 30-something employee, tomorrow I will be a book empty of pages.

Our culture’s magical fences cannot prevent mutation and change – but it can force the illusion of hopelessness on those it requires to stay static.

Nothing about our culture allows for mutation.

I am an X-Man.

I am a cell in a larger entity that through the experience of stagnation triggers mutation to a more ambulatory existence – a replacement of one insufficiently progressive cell with a more suitably malleable one.

I can and will change.

The universe demands it.

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