Jonathon Harbeck is Fake
It's true. I've just gone through my Google Search history from the last fifteen years, and I'm not sure who I am.
I thought I was a smart guy. Wrong.
Searches like "does potato or chicken cook longer" prove that is false.
I thought I was ambitious. Unlikely.
I can't make heads or tails of what this guy actually seems to want...
The general impression I get is lukewarm. Like a lukewarm chicken and potato combo.
Here's the bloody scab. I didn't build anything significant in the last ten years. No record of writing or ideas I can share with others or my grandkids or anyone. I didn't make anything worth saving. I didn't contribute anything of note, or any conversations worth having.
In fact, stepping out of the digital world for a moment, many of my memories are with people that don't want to associate with me anymore. As a result, when I look back on my life, and what I've done everything just feels -- so temporary. Like I've been on a road trip where none of the stops actually end with any kind of satisfying conclusion. Just a few blurry photographs and a warm can of coke.
"I have been on my training arc"
Would be a convenient fiction for me to help downplay this blow to my ego.
"Google Search Shmoogle search, so what?", you might be thinking. The fact that I haven't been use Google to look up anything that even hints at mental engagement shows how turgid and weak my thinking has become, there wasn't even a hint of anything challenging happening to the guy doing the searches.
FIFTEEN YEARS. If I had spent most of the time I spent using Google as a glorified typewriting game more wisely, I would have a whole lot more skills, money, fame and probably know who I actually am.