Internal. Yourself. Everytime.
I have this very intense fear of being regular. Of becoming normal. Of being just like everyone else. I have no idea where it comes from or why it colors the way I think about things. But it does.
I think it’s a desire not to be tied down. A deep paranoia of that “quiet desperation.” Not liking what you do, living vicariously through others. To wake up one day and realize that if you really had something to say, there’d be no way you could tell anyone. You know, that day where you reach for your revolver.
Whatever. It’d be real easy to get caught up in that. That being different is better. And if you’re different then you’re better. Here’s the thing I’m starting to realize: It says way more about me than it does about everybody else. It comes from a place of deep insecurity. If it creates anxiousness, it’s probably not coming from self-comfort or assuredness.
It’s not something to be proud of or hold up against other people, because frankly, it has nothing to do with other people. Some amorphous, reactionary fear over something that not only have complete control over but have the ability to define as well is not exactly an improvement.
Like most things, it’s internal and that’s where I need to direct the attention.
I have you ever read something that articulated an idea floating around in the fuzzy areas of your brain resulting in a serotonin high?
I just had one of those moments. Thank you.
Your writing is like good popmusic – there always seems to be something in there that I can relate to.
Being different for the sake of being different serves no purpose. It’s a means to an end that really has no end.
We should fear being different for the sake of being different just as we should fear being normal for the sake of being normal.
Or we should just be.
This is coming from another neurotic person and I say this with complete conviction.
You need to go watch some tv. Or something.
And yes I have read your other writings. This isn’t the first post of yours I’ve read. Just go and relax for a while. A long while. Seriously, right now the only part of life that you don’t seem to be doing great in is personal happiness. So just go do things you enjoy. Eat out. Go swimming. Fuck your girlfriend. Stressing about everything isn’t a problem that you have no control over. Just take a vacation. You need and deserve one.
I definitely appreciate what you’re saying but you have to understand that this blog is a very very small and specific part of my life.
I’ve always thought of anxiety as sort of instructive, like ‘I care about this so much that understanding the variety of possible outcomes causes me discomfort’. So, while I agree with you that anxiety doesn’t come from self-assuredness, it’s not only unavoidable, but worth experiencing, and important to come to terms with. We aren’t always comfortable, and I think you’ve mentioned before that you don’t think a person should be if they’re being genuine.
Hi, I like your blog, can you help me with my web comic that is a ninja comic book?
When I get down in the dumps, I go over and look at Penelope Trunk’s blog and thank the fuck that I’m not as neurotically retarded as that.
Ryan, this is a great post.
Sometimes, for brief moments, I think that the ends justify the means; that if someone can become great, it invalidates the insecurities that compelled them to become great in the first place. History is full of these sorts of people, but I can’t figure if they’d have been happier as monks or carpenters or other unassuming circumstances.
I don’t think I’ve ever worried about becoming normal; there’s not really any chance of it happening.
But I do worry about accidently working myself into a normal life, or a life that forces me to be normal just to pay the bills.
Just a slight change of perspective I believe. Maybe you define yourself by what you make of yourself in the world more than I do.