The dying art of searching for one's inner voice. You know that thing rattling around in your head giving you whatever sense of control you think you have on the events that happen in your life? Or maybe it’s that thing dictating every slight movement you make, that cringe worthy benevolent thought that if we make one wrong move, even for a second, a flood of scorn and ridicule, for whatever minuscule imperfection, is sure to follow. It’s that voice that ultimately describes who we are as people. Anybody can be a mechanic or a bus driver oblivious to the monotony of their routine. Relaying the same information, guidelines, routines, blah blah blah.
It seems to keep the world spinning; the waiters must wait, the diggers must dig, and everyone else just talks about it. What is it that makes a voice different? These jobs we give ourselves typically are nothing more than a trended mindset of tasks we can tolerate for any given day. Things that growing up we never thought we would have to do, from flipping burgers to fetching coffee. The second we realize our minds are free when our bodies are busy, it’s not hard to humor the mentally blistering. Until one day is the last, of course. It’s that personality that we develop to drag ourselves from daily task to daily task. From the simplest errand of running to the DMV to more complex life strides such as traveling out of the country for the first time, jolts of random thinking keeping us on track to success. Sometimes a cattle prod necessary to deter from slumping into a cozy couch in a dark cellar far from human life.
Some days it’s hard not to stop and feel. Not in a sense of acknowledgment of a matter at hand or butterflies from the first kiss but in that of the discovery of something not yet seen. Feeling like nothing more than a compilation of your surroundings. The general knowledge basic but malleable to circumstance. Trends we mash together as we indulge a perpetual uphill struggle to feel comfortable yet different. These throw away phrases to sprinkle into everyday conversation to spice up the “uhhh’s” and “umm’s” picked up from every rap song, television commercial, and article we have ever read. These catchphrases display our like-mindedness. To encounter similarity is seldom nevertheless key.
Without connection, we fade. Without persistence, we fade. If we exist too much, we fade. Basically, it doesn’t matter what you do, days carry on, people come and go. The more substantial the connection, the more like-mindedness feels intensified. Like a Bluetooth connection from Frontal Cortex to Frontal Cortex, that voice becomes the song and together you follow sync.
Anomaly is the word that comes to mind. To vaguely know someone is to lease out the space in your head until a better deal comes around to sublet for rent control and profit off dumb luck. How much is an opinion worth? It isn’t fair to say not everyone deserves a chance, but it also isn’t any one person's fault when the connection isn’t made. To be entirely honest, sometimes it’s hard to remember that and not take blame. To forgive others for such an accusation is relatively easy for something so subtle as just not hitting it off. When forgiving ourselves seems an entirely different feat in itself. Begging the question, is it easier to not even bother connecting at all?
From conception of initial contact, to that final goodbye this proverbial trial and error is Russian Roulette. Click...Hello. Click...I love you. Click…
Nothing to venture nothing to gain rings in the halls as the flashback of the first day of school taking that final gulp before walking into homeroom. Why make a mess you might have to clean up? That’s just what it is, emotionally messy. It’s easier to float invisibly from room to room so that no one can hear you, see you, misconstrue something you say or kick you out of the women’s locker room.
To be invisible, that is the dream. Until then, bravery is crucial. The mentality of fearlessness. The immortal confidence must be armor. Shrapnel comes without warning.
Saying a little about myself; I am a firm believer that everyone is capable of doing anything they set out to do, as long as they are willing to work for it. It’s just that last part sounding so much like a threat, I believe it pushes people. To people like me it isn’t the destination we seek, it’s how we choose to get there. A highway tells a person how to get somewhere and how long it will take, but you might fall asleep on the drive and drinking doesn’t make it any smoother. For people like us we sovereign in the trek itself. That’s where we spend the bulk of our time. Living. Earning. Loving.
Strafing from scene to scene in life. Concealing myself while contradictorily pushing to become known. When I figure out why, I will let you know. This pathological need to fade into the background has given me the opportunity to observe people, so that when I observe people I get a good idea of what I am looking at in the mirror. In doing so I couldn’t help but notice the bull$h!* from a mile away. Everywhere, more and more, and chances are it’s just me. That’s what I am here to talk about. With my voice. Hear me bitch.