-Mr. Incredible, The Incredibles
I started this blog in 2004. It was my outlet. It was a way for me to express myself and, in a world where everyone is pretending to be the cooler version of themselves, it was a place for me to stay true. I have always said that no matter what, the most important thing i ever owed myself was the ability to keep it real.
Lately, i have been hiding behind quotes and photos. Photos that i hoped would translate a bit of what i am or quotes that i could somehow relate to at a particular moment in time. There's nothing like words you didn't write but only relate to that seems like a cool cop-out to what you're actually trying to say.
There's nothing about anything that i have currently posted that isn't me, of course. It stays true to me in a sense that these are still my certain likes, pet peeves, and thoughts that run through my head on the daily. But what i've realized, and to my dismay, is that i have lost my sense of depth and have grown reluctant to sharing certain aspects of my life. My opinions have been suppressed with the fear of being judged. I'm too much of an open-minded person that there's no way i can express myself without being disputed. I'm too much of anti-confrontational person that i would rather that day never come.
I therefore blame my writer's block on one simple trait: self-consciousness.
Everybody wants to be heard. Everyone wants to be "known". But the truth is, nobody wants the real them to be known. It's always the better version of themselves that they prefer to shine (duh). The ugliness of everyday life is swept under the living room rug and in a life they have created for the public to know- there is no such ugliness.
The struggling mother says her kids are the best thing that ever happened to her.
The starving dancer says following her passion is the best part of her life.
The lonely super model says that being surrounded by so many people all the time makes her feel loved.
The overly intelligent guy says he's fine in his own little world of a bubble because being unique is his gift- he can hold stimulating conversations with himself. He's that smart.
The rich kid says that money can buy him everything.
The poor street child says that at least she has her family.
Everyone tackles the same issues. Be it loneliness, anger, boredom, frustration- any negative human emotion is experienced by any human being. So why is it so hard to admit?
I applaud those who have zero qualms about openly exploring their downfalls and shortcomings. It's a brave thing to do considering that the standards for perfection in this highly imperfect world is at an all time high.
You think anyone on Facebook or Twitter is keeping it real? Yeah, think again. It's the only place where people will befriend long lost enemies and exes with the intention of pissing em off... in a very non-personal way, of course.
In an effort to be perfectly acceptable, i have tarnished my own version of perfection and just ended up being like everyone else. Ironically, which is what i was trying to avoid in the first place. My page all of a sudden looks like every other blog i run into everyday compiled by every other Tom, Dick, and Nancy. Since when did i ever belong to the mainstream category?
Losing the direction of my writing, i can't help but feel as if i've lost my own sense of direction. I'm not trying to impress anybody. I'm certainly not trying to portray my life as perfect. I'm just being a serious closet-case putting people at bay lest they figure out the mystery i try so hard to keep concealed. You see, i don't like people in my head. I don't care what other people think. However, there are times I just really need to let it all out.
I'm revitalized.
I just needed to be told.
I'm not like everybody else.
Helen: "Everyone's special, Dash..."
Dash: "Which is another way of saying no one is."
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