It's been a while.
At some time or another, you have all struggled with your own self worth, perhaps to the point of wallowing in self pity and being severely depressed. Constantly and subconsciously, insecure questioning occurs: Are you pretty? Are you quick? Are you even slightly attractive? Fortunately, these empty, self-absorbed thoughts gradually dissipate with the oncoming of adulthood, maturity, and a general reticence of hormonal fluctuation. After all, opinions and judgements of one's worth as an individual are subjective and overall, tainted and unworthy. As we settle, lose the sociopathic tendencies of our childhood (some of us, anyway), and learn to love, we move on and focus on the day to day.
Now, I've always had trouble with the above-written. What can I say? My life is a highway studded with throbbing tourist-traps of pain, pain, pain, and I'm not the only one to start questioning structure in response to chaos. It never helped that I was a reader, and that so much of fiction is about romanticized child-prodigy types with things like likeable personalities, high IQs, brilliant work ethics, and talent. Fictional forms of structure were imprinted upon my brain, and lost, I have clung to them.
We set our dreams, and we get over them. I've gotten over the "I want to be a genius thing" quite a long time ago, thank god, because that;s obviously a lost cause. So many people never do, though. I've worked hard for inner peace; had to, you know, because I couldn't function at all in the day-to-day. And I've been okay lately; it's fucking hard to get up and continue carving out a niche I barely believe in, but it happens. And then, I accidentally picked up this book, see?
Normally, I read books of people doing the aesthetically pleasing version of what I do: eek out and slide along my belly.
And this book is a about a singing gal's rise to fame and her natural effortlessness, her nights in her bed awake with passion for music, her proficiency, her genius. And my world? Pretty unaffected, actually. I can't seem to sleep, though, because I want to practice, and there is no place to do so.
Mediocrity and stangnacy make me want to kill things, see? We only have so much time to achieve and be happy. Personally, I don't think I'll ever be happy unless I achieve brilliance in something, possibly more than one thing if I ever get to that bridge. Some people are lucky enough to have escaped this affliction!!
I could really use some liquor and a joint right about now, and that's not bad because then I'd sleep and be fresh tomorrow.
Now, I've always had trouble with the above-written. What can I say? My life is a highway studded with throbbing tourist-traps of pain, pain, pain, and I'm not the only one to start questioning structure in response to chaos. It never helped that I was a reader, and that so much of fiction is about romanticized child-prodigy types with things like likeable personalities, high IQs, brilliant work ethics, and talent. Fictional forms of structure were imprinted upon my brain, and lost, I have clung to them.
We set our dreams, and we get over them. I've gotten over the "I want to be a genius thing" quite a long time ago, thank god, because that;s obviously a lost cause. So many people never do, though. I've worked hard for inner peace; had to, you know, because I couldn't function at all in the day-to-day. And I've been okay lately; it's fucking hard to get up and continue carving out a niche I barely believe in, but it happens. And then, I accidentally picked up this book, see?
Normally, I read books of people doing the aesthetically pleasing version of what I do: eek out and slide along my belly.
And this book is a about a singing gal's rise to fame and her natural effortlessness, her nights in her bed awake with passion for music, her proficiency, her genius. And my world? Pretty unaffected, actually. I can't seem to sleep, though, because I want to practice, and there is no place to do so.
Mediocrity and stangnacy make me want to kill things, see? We only have so much time to achieve and be happy. Personally, I don't think I'll ever be happy unless I achieve brilliance in something, possibly more than one thing if I ever get to that bridge. Some people are lucky enough to have escaped this affliction!!
I could really use some liquor and a joint right about now, and that's not bad because then I'd sleep and be fresh tomorrow.