I love the epiphanies and the rhapsodies. Ideas and phrases and models and songs just appear in my head. Last night I had a vision of a fractal, where each point in the fractal was a different set of physical laws pertaining to a scale of reality. I imagined the laws of physics not as a constant, but as a spectrum.
I am paralyzed, disabled by my sophistication and diversity. I can discourse on everything from Cinema to post punk, Modeno wools and fabrics to proper cocktails. But for all my knowledge, all the splendor of my memory palace, I am poor and buried under debt and living with my parents.
I want to learn apparel design and make three piece suits. I want to study German, Chinese. I want to go back to Portland and re-start my band. I want to write a book of music history, a book of political theory. I want to make sculpture that expresses my concepts of non-euclidean geometry. I'm building a giant index of every monster in every RPG monster manual, ever, and once that is in my head there shall be this giant integrated urban fantasy world, in my head. I have lived the histories of a thousand different empires and the oppressions of 100,00 tyrannies.
And when inspiration strikes me, it is the sweetest automation. Beautiful language and music appears in this flood and it is all that I can do to write it down as fast as possible. It's a desperate ecstasic race of recollection and recording.
I wish that I hadn't hurt myself as much when I was younger, so that I'd have been more intelligent. I remember reading general relativity when I was in the 5th grade. I learned to read with Tolkien, and I was literate at the age of five. I had my first existential crisis before I reached adolescence.
I don't feel superior to others, because I recognize that intelligence, like courage or love, intelligence is an awful word. Intelligence is a vast set compromising large number of sub-attributes. My prodigy in certain sub-categories (verbosity) does not amount to a holistic totality, at least in application. If I'm so smart (IQ 144), why am I poor and only partly employed? Others have greater effect and success with less intelligence. I might do more if, as the old proverb goes, I were a hedgehog and not a fox. But I am a fox, knowing many things but mastering none. I am dilletante, able to intelligently participate in any conversation, but the treads don't provide traction.
So does that help?