Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Mail

A few hurriedly scrawled letters,

'You are not special'

successfully pinned my ambitions to an otherwise blank piece of thirded paper, my own personal butterfly collection stolen from the recesses of a stomach too pained to offer much defence. The envelope was unremarkable, save for an invitation to open for 'The one who thinks he's more than he is'.

'But I am, surely.'

And a detached voice that's always there, hiding in the bright corner of my head, watching my act with stilted bemusement, critically looks at me with my own voice and says:

- You've always thought it, but if you were would you be here? Isn't life supposed to come rescue you?

The last sentence washed with scorn, a hatred from my own clinical observer.

'Maybe...'

- Maybe nothing. Since you were young, you put in just enough effort to supplement your natural ability so that you ended up above-average. Then you stopped increasing the effort and now you're just average, wishing life was better, thinking that you're special, thinking that you're here for a reason, supposed to change the world, rescue the planet, play Jesus and save us all. But you're not. And you know it - it's why I'm here.

'Everything that's happened in my life has been for a purpo-'

- Bullshit. You're so pathetic, even in your manic state I'm here, watching and judging and realising what a complete cock you are. You think you're all that. There's no purpose to life. No purpose to your existence, except to struggle and suffer for some greater glory that will never come.

'But I've tried and it hasn't worked. I've tried so har-'

- No. All you've done is fail. You've failed over and over again and then, the worst of all, is that you failed to learn anything. You keep making the same mistakes, keep giving up when it gets hard and keep using the reasoning that 'This isn't where I'm supposed to be, surely'. You're constantly deluding yourself into thinking you're special.

'But what if I am?'

- But you're n-

'No, but what if I am? Isn't that an even scarier thought? That all the feelings I have about being special aren't a figment of mania but they're real? That I am supposed to change the world and have absolutely no idea where to start. We're not afraid of being wrong, we're afraid of being right.'

- You're just afraid of looking like a dick.

I picked up the letter, ripped out the words and stuck them into my wallet.

'And when I'm wrong, it's still going to be spectacular.'

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