“Life is complicated” – Everyone Ever.

It isn’t an exactly unique sentiment to express. The truth is, it isn’t the most accurate either. In my (albeit limited) experience, the complicated things in life are most often very simple, and the simple – well, they tend to be rather complicated, feeling ever more so as the complications come out of nowhere and catching you completely off guard like a shot to the back of the head, or right in the face, always when you least expect it. Leaving you reeling from the blow still with no idea where it came from, how you got it, who delivered it or why. Life is a master distraction artist, it formed the basis for the “Art of War” and every tactical book ever written – did you expect anything else? Life doesn’t care about the individuals, it is created by them.

There are so many Applications to manage it, books to tell you the rules of it, and “tricks” to beat it. The thing they forget is life isn’t a game, it cannot be managed or tricked, it doesn’t come with rules it comes with amorphous ebs and flows, success and failures, a swinging pendulum tirelessly searching but never finding an equilibrium.

It feels like a constant struggle to survive through the dry periods of nothing, the waiting, it feels like it will never end. I have always wondered how/why humans did not evolve to be better equipped to suffer. Darwinism definitely missed the boat on that one.

 

As the first post, I suppose most people would want to start on a positive note. I am not most people and not being most people seems like an excellent place to start (excellent being a stretch, realistically, just as good as any other would be more accurate).  For as long as I can remember I’ve been “unique”. This isn’t a brag, while often the statement is expressed with overtones of admiration and awe, I would hazard to guess it is just as frequently expressed with dismay, sadness and the worst of all, pity; it is something I have been told my whole life, and has caused more trouble than benefit, the trouble is, and what people never seem to quite grasp is that being a “star” is only fun when you shine, and no one can shine all the time.

Being different has become a currency of sorts; a traded commodity, an excuse and a justification. It has grown into the most valued, coveted and hated part of me. People tell you your decisions and actions have consequences – but what happens when they don’t? What happens when, for the vast majority of your life the only consequences you suffered were those instituted by your struggling parents desperate attempt to help you understand the realities and intricacies of the world, an effort they tireless balanced against their desire not to to “break” your spirt or change the inner core of what it means to be you, what happens when you really and truly are “too smart for your own good”.

Being a “star” is only fun when you shine and no one can shine all the time.

I’m not sure I always know that answer