Confidence, Self-confidence. What a melodramatic façade of a goal in a person’s life. Begrudgingly tearing myself limb from limb to reach for this so called “goal.” I’ll scoff at myself in blind disregard to my own humility.
How eagerly we climb, I climb, towards that confidence, and for what? A grand fortress of wood to be burned down by the next passerby with a single spark! Forgive my negative expression, but the cataclysm of recent events leaves me ghastly and exhausted, while not more than a husk of my former self at the moment.
Yet a promise is different, a promise I must keep. A slave to this societal thrill I've constructed, this "blog" of stories hoping to make a life out of a dream where I don't actually have to get a job like a normal person.
The few morals that keep my tethered down I must uphold for fear of the sheer chaos that would be left of myself were I to lose the last of my chains.
Riddles and metaphors is that all I’m good for? Happy as I ever get, or destructively tearing down my own life as I am now all I spew out of my mouth are riddles and metaphors.
But what does it matter?
It is clear that despite all my hard work on this my words will go unread by a so called audience! 5,000 page views, how impressive! And yet? I’ve nothing for it but a slew of poorly constructed paraprapghs and enough stick figures to fill an album twice over. Sorry, Glorified stick figures. Because for some reason I had to be above such docile things as “stick figures.” God forbid I am stuck in that crowd.
I ramble. I ramble on and on. For what? Nothing. A new approach maybe? Funny not good enough for the world? Cleaver not good enough still? How about angry? I don’t need a lie like self-confidence for that one. I can just spout off all the nonsense I think up and how sad I am with the world, the people in it. A lot of people become a success online for that. Can I join them? Not likely.
Why?
Because I’m just a shy little boy trying to act big and tough in an adult world where I constantly feel alone because everyone else seems so damned competent in comparison to me. “But Josh, you can do so many things! You can sword fight, and act, and—“
I’ll shut you up there! What do those skills make me? Hm? How on earth will I market those skills to the world today? Me? An actor? The stress would implode my brain before I scarcely began such a trip!
No idea what that is supposed to be, but I made a sound that used those letters and was just bursting at the seams with emotions.
I’ll have a guest post next week. Give me some time to collect my head. My poor little exploded head; so I can get over myself and hopefully move on.
Because at the end of the day being myself wins me nothing. Being a character from a story? Living my life like some giant game? That wins me everything.
Everyone likes someone who is self confidant.
Everyone but me I guess,
They didn’t plan on that one when they started saying that.
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