In Which I Express Generalized Awe Inspired by my Own Brilliance

Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port,
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!

Have you ever experienced a prolonged period of profound personal perception?

Like, for a whole year you just keep figuring things out, each insight building on the last, each epiphany more remarkable, until you realize one day how totally fucking brilliant you are and you wonder why no one has knocked down your door insisting that you accept a Nobel prize and a handful of other awards in recognition of your genius?

This is the kind of year I've had. Wow. Seriously figured some shit out. Of course, the problem with blinding flashes of comprehension at my age is that it throws in such sharp contrast the previous 3.5 decades of my life during which I was verifiably NOT brilliant. Makes me wonder what inner mysteries are yet to be unraveled that will cause me to reflect on myself now, in all my sharp-witted glory, to realize that what feels like Superman's X-ray vision is really the squinty myopic stare of, say, Mr. McGoo instead.

Well, it's no matter because today I feel like I have unlocked the secrets of the universe, if you will pardon a little hyperbole.

No, of course I will not share my epiphanies with you; you may laugh and say, "Well, duh!" thereby causing harm to my fragile ego. Just celebrate with me as I bask in the unfamiliar glow of understanding. At last.

As I went down the hill along the wall
There was a gate I had leaned at for the view
And had just turned from when I first saw you
As you came up the hill. We met. But all
We did that day was mingle great and small
Footprints in summer dust as if we drew
The figure of our being less than two
But more than one as yet. Your parasol
Pointed the decimal off with one deep thrust.
And all the time we talked you seemed to see
Something down there to smile at in the dust.
(Oh, it was without prejudice to me!)
Afterward I went past what you had passed
Before we met and you what I had passed.

"Meeting and Passing" by Robert Frost