Some days it just hits me. Most days I float through life, I
worry about the future in the same way most people do, but I rarely do anything
to change my future. But sometimes it all hits me like a ton of bricks. I have
these epiphanies that are so strong is seems at is if the world stops. My
breath catches and I am paralyzed by my realization that I am too scared to
really live.
I was at a show last night, a show that I have been looking forward to for months. One of the opening bands was playing. Their music wasn’t overly good, but it was decent. I could tell that beneath the synth and the loops and stupid stage theatrics that these artists were really talented singers. And I liked the music, but I liked it in the same way I like other bad music, it is entertaining to listen to, but it isn’t really thought provoking or soulful in the way Taylor Swift sings about every single guy that has ever broken up with her, which is apparently a lot. Regardless, I was at this show and I was watching these performers and it hit me. These people are not doing what I want to do, what I am passionate about, but they are putting themselves out there! I want to write and the best part about writing is that I can lay my heart and soul for the world, but I am doing it with the written word and have the privilege of anonymity. But these people that were on stage, doing that exact same thing, opening themselves and their lives out for criticism and they were rocking it. They were good, the crowd loved them. And if they could put themselves out there without the benefit of being anonymous, why can I not put myself out there behind my blog?
Watching others be fearless made me want to be just as fearless. I have always hated myself for being crippled by my own fear. It is very sick and very cyclical. I hate that I am afraid, but I am too afraid to change it. With each passing piece I write, I am feel I am one step closer to someone realizing that I have no idea what I am doing. That me putting words on to paper is nothing more than that, simply words on paper. I am terrified that one day someone is going to realize I am hack and they are not going to hold back in telling me so. One day some is going to tell me everything I already fear and know. But, I also realize that letting this fear hold me back is cheating myself and the person that will mostly likely one day force me to come to the harsh realization that I am possibly not as talented as I think I am, or my friends tell me I am.
And as if the universe were pushing me in this direction, you know, in case my Earth shattering epiphany wasn’t sign enough I opened a fortune cookie that told me “Keep in touch with some form of the arts”. Even the damn Chinamen is all up in my business, pushing me to do the only thing that I am good at doing.
So, I have to say “Thank you” to Flavr Blue, Watsky, and the Chinamen down the road, Grand Peking, for putting that damn cookie in my take-out. Now, I just need to hold myself accountable and follow through on my most important promises, the ones I make to myself, and maybe one day when my dreams come true, I can thank myself for ignoring that damn voice in the back of my head that will not shut up about how hard I am going to fail and how terrible I really am. If I can quiet that bully that lives inside me and I can overcome my fears, I think I stand a real chance of making something of myself.
I was at a show last night, a show that I have been looking forward to for months. One of the opening bands was playing. Their music wasn’t overly good, but it was decent. I could tell that beneath the synth and the loops and stupid stage theatrics that these artists were really talented singers. And I liked the music, but I liked it in the same way I like other bad music, it is entertaining to listen to, but it isn’t really thought provoking or soulful in the way Taylor Swift sings about every single guy that has ever broken up with her, which is apparently a lot. Regardless, I was at this show and I was watching these performers and it hit me. These people are not doing what I want to do, what I am passionate about, but they are putting themselves out there! I want to write and the best part about writing is that I can lay my heart and soul for the world, but I am doing it with the written word and have the privilege of anonymity. But these people that were on stage, doing that exact same thing, opening themselves and their lives out for criticism and they were rocking it. They were good, the crowd loved them. And if they could put themselves out there without the benefit of being anonymous, why can I not put myself out there behind my blog?
Watching others be fearless made me want to be just as fearless. I have always hated myself for being crippled by my own fear. It is very sick and very cyclical. I hate that I am afraid, but I am too afraid to change it. With each passing piece I write, I am feel I am one step closer to someone realizing that I have no idea what I am doing. That me putting words on to paper is nothing more than that, simply words on paper. I am terrified that one day someone is going to realize I am hack and they are not going to hold back in telling me so. One day some is going to tell me everything I already fear and know. But, I also realize that letting this fear hold me back is cheating myself and the person that will mostly likely one day force me to come to the harsh realization that I am possibly not as talented as I think I am, or my friends tell me I am.
And as if the universe were pushing me in this direction, you know, in case my Earth shattering epiphany wasn’t sign enough I opened a fortune cookie that told me “Keep in touch with some form of the arts”. Even the damn Chinamen is all up in my business, pushing me to do the only thing that I am good at doing.
So, I have to say “Thank you” to Flavr Blue, Watsky, and the Chinamen down the road, Grand Peking, for putting that damn cookie in my take-out. Now, I just need to hold myself accountable and follow through on my most important promises, the ones I make to myself, and maybe one day when my dreams come true, I can thank myself for ignoring that damn voice in the back of my head that will not shut up about how hard I am going to fail and how terrible I really am. If I can quiet that bully that lives inside me and I can overcome my fears, I think I stand a real chance of making something of myself.
