Nowhere Man

Ah, is it that time again? I've been so caught up in putting off everything to write all that much, but you can be assured the rollercoaster of my mind stops for no intermission. I don't know what to think of these new "circumstances", if you will (and you'd better!). On the one hand, I'm not bored. The holes of angst are now containable, I know what they're caused by, and if I was motivated I could fix them. Temporary solutions, of course, but the direct stress applied by the impending summer reading deadline does horrible things to a person's psyche. Heh, another reason I like Math, no big projects (At least my kinda math, but I digress)! Still, now that I recognize my "video gaming" actions as what they are, escaping (an identification I wasn't able to make a year ago), the charm is somewhat lost. I'm still running. Always running. My legs don't seem to be tiring. Only my heart. My heart, my soul, my mental state, they've obtained an interchangeable state in this area. And it all comes down to the same old problem. The same problem I've been plagued with since I started "coming into my own." You're all subject to it, more or less. It's the human condition. For "to err is human, to forgive divine." But we cannot forgive ourselves. We hold ourselves to higher standards that, when broken, do not warrant clemency. Punishment, beratement, stress, all and more are the self-inflicted castigations we pile upon ourselves for not achieving adequacy. The price of failure.

All things are perspective. You know it, I know it, most people know it deep down. But everyone knows failure. For many it's a nasty habit, for some a way of life. Failure is only what you make it. It can be anything, everything, or nothing, depending on the individual. The only real definition is your own. Unfortunately for many, their own personal definition is an impossibility. Such is the case with me. For all my thinking, I've created a lose/lose situation. My accomplishments and failures are now all based on other people. My hierarchy of success can only be measured by those beneath me and those above me. It's terrible, because it seems to violate my spirit. To become so very envious of all who are stronger/faster/better than I am. It's not so much a matter of personal traits, though. If someone is stronger than I am, I don't particularly mind. I've got other "talents." But it's when those "talents" are infringed upon that I'm really hit. It's gotten to the point that I can barely read another person's writing, listen to others create music, watch others make people laugh without it sending pangs of self-deploration throughout my body. I see others and think, "I want that. I want some way, some method to create, to entertain, to effect others in that way. But I'm too dumb/slow/simple/confused/worthless/untalented/insecure/incompetent to do it." I can't say, "Wow, that was good! I'm impressed!" and walk away feeling like I've witnessed something wonderful or at the very least pleasant. No, I have to either bring it down to make it appear trivial or unimportant or do the same thing to myself. Not out loud, never that. And never to people, either. Either the work or myself.

It's probably not that foreign a concept to most of you. People bring others down all the time. I wouldn't give it a second thought if it didn't distress me. But it's just the effects of that underlying problem. The root of what seems to be my insecurity, my stress, and my unstable mental state. Purpose. Perhaps that's not entirely apt, but it's the closest word that comes to mind. At the moment, I don't really have a purpose. I don't have a "niche." And as much as I'd like to believe otherwise, I need one. To create something thought provoking, to be entertaining, to contribute. Something that others appreciate. It seems to go against the "only your standards matter" philosophy, but when your standards are appreciation or what-have-you from others, it's hard. If I had something, anything, I think I'd be fine. I want a place. Writing, music, comedy, something. Anything! Anything so I can say "I do that, and do it well. It benefits others, it justifys me. It is a positive." Perhaps I just don't care enough to make my own standards, so I have to use others to form them for me. It seems I constantly seek positive affirmation, but so little of it comes. Most of it I can't trust. I don't trust compliments. I want sincere, honest, and truthful. I want people to say "I like that" and mean it. Like I've said before, laughter is the only way I can really tell. It's almost involtunary, most of the time. It's a true result. Everything else ... you have to convince me of.

I suppose it's the same for most people. I wouldn't know, none of them have ever told me. That desire for a purpose. Even if that purpose isn't appreciated, just the knowledge that you produce a positive effect would be enough. Some people want recognition or a monument or something. But I think what they really need is to be convinced that they're needed. That's why being loved is so wonderful. It the ideal sense, it provides that positive affirmation. It gives you a purpose. You only need one. Even if it's only one person. Heh, maybe I have it already but refuse to believe it because of my insecurity and paranoia. I think everyone's jaded by alterior motives and wants to make me feel better instead of telling me the truth. Why they can't be honest is beyond me. Deception, incorrigibility, and sadism are the things I dislike. Everything else ... Eh. Anyway, that's not what this is about. Maybe I just want to unique which is the most feasible impossibility that can ever come true. Ah well.

Anyway, that's part of the reason I haven't been writing much recently. No encouragement. And apparently I need that. Constantly. If it wanes, so do I. What can I do? Keep on riding the roller coaster I suppose, fully aware of my exaggerated inferiorities that aren't exaggerated at all. Eh, hopefully I'll be up again tomorrow. But the problem remains. I can run, I can ride, I can do whatever but it's still an illness I can't cure myself of. I want to fix it so badly... But, for now, I'm going nowhere. Care to find me?