Before I was a writer I was a self-made millionaire.
Most people who call themselves “self-made” are fooling themselves. They intentionally ignore all of the work that other people do because it is convenient to their philosophy to do so. But when I was self made, I was truly self made.
At the age of 1 day old I knew instinctively that in order to be a truly self-made man I’d need to cut ties to my parents before they could influence or assist me. Even though my fingers were not fully under my control I managed to unbuckle myself from my car seat, roll down the window and jump from the moving car to my freedom in the woods of suburban Georgia.
My first night on my own was difficult because I couldn’t crawl. I got a lucky roll and bounce out of the car and down a hill into a forest, but that was the last thing the world ever gave me. That night, as a family of coyotes approached me to see if I would make a decent meal, I fought them off with my baby arms and pure will to be on my own. I killed all but the mother coyote, and her I cried into submission and forced her to nurse me against her will.
When I was two I discovered that my coyote mother was trying to teach me about life; about hunting and scavenging for food. Regrettably I had to kill her. She was impeding my self-madeness.
When I was four I came across some suburbanite’s garbage and I realized I was too close to the influence of the city. I moved further into the rural areas of Georgia. That’s when I killed my first deer with a pointy stick I fashioned out of a less pointy stick. I skinned it and dressed it with rocks that I chipped into blades using other rocks. Through the process of trial by error I learned what parts of the deer were ok to eat and what parts were deadly. I did this without testing on any other humans or animals. I ate it myself and nursed myself back from several bouts of dysentery.
By six years old, without ever seeing or hearing a word of it in my life, I taught myself perfect English. Though I didn’t know what a book was I wrote all of my thought down on how to teach yourself English without the help of teacher or book. Then the irony of such a book occurred to me so I buried it (I don’t believe in burning books).
When I was eight years old I realized that I could affect the plants growing around me be killing unfavorable plants and enhancing the conditions of the plants I wanted to eventually harvest and eat. Not really having the patience to spoon feed the lazy plants I created a chemical compound of crushed up flowers that acted like DDT to keep the bugs off of my garden.
Learning agriculture was so easy at age 8 and a half I decided to raise and selectively breed earthworms until they had evolved into cows. By age 9 I had a small herd of cows, sheep and goats.
When I was ten years old I graduated from an Ivy League school which I conceived of on my own, constructed from bricks I made out of mud and staffed – completely by myself.
By age twelve I had grown weary of the lazy academic life. I longed to get back to using my hands and creating a world from scratch. What I needed now was an enterprise to run. So I created some goods that I could sell and which would need servicing and repairing that I could also do. However, I didn’t want to sell my goods to other people, because then I would not be able to say that I was a 100% self-made man. If I owe my fortune to something I’ve sold other people, then the other people helped me. So I bought all of my goods myself. It didn’t take long before I was filthy rich; a completely self-made millionaire.
And finally, to come full circle, I asexually reproduced and left my spores in the forest to begin the process anew.
With my self-made days behind me I finally decided it was safe to join the world of society. You people bitch a lot. It didn’t take long for me to miss my days of solitude. The days when I could scream in the woods and no one would hear me. So I started a blog and told all of my friends and family about it. Now I’m alone again.