Aggressive ambition is one of the
most frightening things
I have ever had to bear
witness to. It’s terrifying.
I’m chilled by it.
I’ve seen bloody Jack O’Lanterns
that were less menacing than
a person’s blind ambition and
desire for successful recognition
above everything else.
They want the money,
they want happiness,
they want success,
they want love,
without knowing what those
things are really about or worth.
It’s spine tingling how
much, how badly, they want
it. I’m happy with a modicum
of success and it warmly sustains
me for weeks, months even.
The monstrously ambitious, it’s
never enough. They’ll suck the
marrow from the bones before
the body is dead, like a vampire
with a Carpe Diem tattoo.
They’re hooked on a life spent in
pursuit of cheating death.
As moderates, we know, we die.
It can’t be helped (unless medical
science is like, “Hey, Live Forever
Pills, on the market!) Which my
insurance probably wouldn’t cover.
Death doesn’t scare me as much as fiery
The ambitious, their uncompromising
desire for success trumps any unconditional
love they could have had. They project
their desires for success onto others and
wonder, “Why aren’t they as motivated as
I am? They must suck at life, while I am
clearly killing it.”
Only true monsters believe they’re
above judgment, above reproach,
above considering the issues or
troubles of the mildly ambitious.
They choose not to empathize because
it might de-rail their own ambitions.
Human kindness, understanding,
are weaknesses for the ambitious.
Worse than a Wolfman, Frankenstein’s
Monster, The Mummy, or Xenomorphs
is any ability to be patiently understanding.
Patience is the terror of the ambitious.
Which makes them a terror for me.
“Bla, Bla, I vont us to start investing
in saving for a trip to Mexico after ve get
back from our hang-gliding adventure, bla!
I vill just have to reschedule zee meetings I
have vit de neighborhood association and
zee dog sitter service, bla, bla!” – Ambitious
Nightmares scare me less.