# Do Metaprojects Publish that novella, build an OS, converse in Mandarin, release an indie game, publish that other novella, dominate a continent -- It's not enough to breathe -- my gluttonous heart wants to impose its imagination on Earth and all its inhabitants. I want freedom, money, affection, play, power, validation, fulfillment, etc. Of course I already have these things, but enough never seems enough. These desires manifest themselves as an endless backlog of ideas and projects. My backlog grows; my lifespan dwindles. I feel powerless against this trickle of time. When my optimism hits its limits, I mourn so many stillborn dreams -- breaking my back to bury impossible futures. I want to want fewer futures, but I'm often too weak to put possibilities out of their misery. I'm learning to let go, but maybe letting go takes a lifetime. My brain came pre-installed with Human OS; [loss aversion](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loss_aversion) will squander CPU until I install security patches (e.g. [Taoism](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taoism), [Zen](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zen), [stocism](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stoicism)). But I think I'm allergic to enlightenment. Meditation is difficult, quiet is boring, courage is scary, desire is addicting, etc. "Dream themes" are my spiritual duct-tape. When desire outpaces optimism, I distill my projects into metaprojects \[sic\]. [^note]: Most humans lack the resources to pursue [megaprojects](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Megaproject). Those who wage [one-man wars-of-attrition](/attrition) guarantee failure. A metaproject is an itch which scratches many itches. [^note]: **Example:** You've been wanting to take cooking classes, but you've also been wanting to join an improv group. If you don't have time/resources for both of these projects, you might choose a metaproject like "weekly dinner party with funny friends" -- it doesn't strictly meet the requirements from either project, but it might fulfill some deeper desire. So many bites. Scratching harder, clawing at skin, fighting flesh -- loss is inevitable under these conditions. Ignore that immediate irritation and erect a mosquito net. If your net works, it'll crowd with friends, finally finding relief from similar itches. Metaprojects agglomerate. Your nets' threads tend to tangle together into an anti-mosquito tapestry. In those chaotic quilting patterns, you develop vocabulary to describe/distinguish distinct itches. Your ultimate metaproject is precisely _you_ and inevitably whoever you choose to become. It never feels that way. It feels like you're building an OS, learning Mandarin, writing another novella -- no, no -- you're writing an autobiography with blood.