Counterpoint

And now, it is 4AM, and my body longs for sleep, but God puts in my breast war and peace, homages to pay and debts to fulfill.

So I turn to Elon, a hero of my heroes, whom in my heart do I hold close and dear—and in my high school senior pop poll, was I voted “Next Elon Musk.” Oh, and how I tried!—but I have not it in me to start or run a company.

Did he gift the world “first-principles”?—then, I shall give it “counterpoint,” and I am as he, and unlike, and together, we are one. For he, with Asperger’s, and I, with schizophrenia, two lonely geniuses, INTJ “octopus club,” here to save humanity from itself.

What a lonely endeavor!—but, I have he in my spirit, and I hope he frowns not on the man I have become, who could not match him in his domains. For he is the richest!—and I, too, in my own way.

And of course, I drive a Tesla, and never shall I drive any other car. Bought it myself!—and hey, not so bad, not so unkind, perhaps, is fate.

Turing!—oh, lonely eccentric genius, who in his head imagined the computer, and tried Devilishly hard to conceive it. Ah, how he martyred himself, turning himself in as a homosexual to the authorities!

We are all martyrs in our time, and I, the conservative, who walk freely to the liberals, arms by my side, in natural repose, “your servant, always!”.

My friends assume I go to Church!—no, but I disdain organized religion, and I find God in my heart, not in the empty and vacuous words of a puppet authority.

Be gone, be gone!—for I worship in a Baroque cathedral, the only safe haven for an intellectual-driven-schizophrenic, and to Bach, is my debt unpayable, but shall I try. Let me revive this your idea, long-forgotten by a world-turned-hedonist, -masochist, and more.