Crazy
April 8th, 2008 by park
I think I am a little crazy. If I wasn’t though, I am not sure I could take this world as much as I have.
I fear today I shamed the one man I love best. You have to understand, I love and respect my father more than any other human I can think of. And right now, I have a migraine, so just sitting here writing this down is agonizing pain. I should be laying down sleeping. But if I don’t get it out of my head, I fear it may explode.
I think perhaps I push others with my own will too much. That I try to impose on other people this need to create, to be free of the burdens of sanity and to simply fly up into the heavens without fear that our wings will turn to ash and we will plummet back to earth. And I forget, I am a bit of an oddity with others I know. Other people who have this affliction annoy the hell out of me, so I don’t group with artists and other creative thinkers much. Which leaves me in the somewhat unique position of being a free-thinker in a sea of conformists. And rather than let other people’s lives go on around them, I feel this compulsion to shove their boats and rattle their cages and scream into their lives “GET UP! DO SOMETHING MORE THAN YOU ARE!”, forgetting that everyone is simply content with their position in their lives. That they make “enough” money, or have “enough” to do.
So I push. Without care for who they are, or what they want. I fear that I will someday become the father who’s son falls in love with football only to have a father who thinks soccer is a better sport. (Which it is.) I am so intensely opinionated. And every week I have another million dollar idea. But I have not the resources, or clout or recourse with which to make it a reality. And by the time I find a way to make that idea even remotely possible, someone who has those things makes it happen.
So I push more. And without worrying that I am infringing on someone else’s reality I try to impose my own world view. And I find myself becoming that thing I hate most…an angry free-thinker who feels neglected and relegated to the fringe of society. A whining sycophantic crybaby who should be dressed in all black, sitting at Starbuck’s wondering why my mommy and daddy don’t understand me, with a knife in one hand and a latte in the other.
And then I recoil. I stare, in abject terror because I realize that whatever it was I wanted to do cannot be so important as to want to change another human being’s stance in the world. Are you satisfied with who you are? Are you done growing, changing and changing the world around you? Is that what the word “retire” means? My brain is a rush of new ideas, because I feel myself hurting on the inside, spewing out new ideas, fresh from my mental vacancies.
Perhaps I will retire as well. And become satisfied that this is all life has to offer. That the harder I work will not matter. That the more I do will not be rewarded, because the perception of the machine is too large to be overcome. Because I don’t have enough faith in myself, my skills or my own strengths to take on any Goliath.
But more than anything…I am sorry for shaming my kin. For believing for an instant that just because we are related that somehow you will want more than I do, or be more passionate about my own ideas than I would. But I thank you for listening, and at least glancing in the direction I pointed, if even for a moment to say “Yes, I see it too. And it could be glorious…but it is not for us. It is for them. Let them have it, for someday the meek shall inherit the earth.”
Is aspiring to not be the meek too much in life? I am so confused. And my head is wracked with pain, my stomach twists in a way I do not understand. And it is time to spew more than ideas from my mouth.
The greatest feeling in life is to know who you are and what your purpose is. Not understanding that, for better or for worse, is the worst. But believing you know the path and being told it is not; that is scary in a way I can no longer handle.
Why do I write this crap when I feel the worst? This whole website is supposed to be about music, and movies and cigars. Instead I drop all my mental garbage here.
Oh and I think I figured out my migraines. I think it’s simply stress. On thing, after another, after another. At first you don’t notice. Then suddenly you have a mountain of things to overcome. I need sleep. G’night.
Oh yeah, I just noticed Gnarl’s Barkley released their newest album “The Odd Couple”: