Like most of the others, I was a seeker, a mover, a malcontent, and at times a stupid hell-raiser. I was never idle long enough to do much thinking, but I felt somehow that my instincts were right. I shared a vagrant optimism that some of us were making real progress, that we had taken an honest road, and that the best of us would inevitably make it over the top. At the same time, I shared a dark suspicion that the life we were leading was a lost cause, that we were all actors, kidding ourselves along on a senseless odyssey. It was the tension between these two poles -- a restless idealism on one hand and a sense of impending doom on the other -- that kept me going.
And I, like most of the others, can identify with a lot of the sentiment here. Malcontent ... what a great word. The last sentence, though, communicates the push/pull that permeates so much of life, I would say. Idealism vs. dread. I believe that tension Thompson writes of is to be at battle against yourself, against the world, against an obstacle, against success, against fate, against life. Realize it or not, that conflict is only human. And to err is human. But to be human is also to rise above.
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