The Tragedy of an Oxymoron

I am a shy attention seeker. This is something I have come to realise recently and wish to do something about. But first, the background:

I have always been the quiet one. The one who stands in corners, doesn’t raise his hand. The introvert. When I was younger I used to say ‘mm’ and ‘mhm’ instead of yes and no; I would mumble words in the presence of adults. I grew out of that, but never quite got over the fear of speaking to strangers. I still get nervous when asking for things in shops and am infamous for not answering the phone. I guess some of this is a little unusual, but I             manage to get by in the world despite my differences. Except that this is not enough for me anymore.

I have also always been quite talented: I was the arty one, the musical one, the clever one. At an early age I enjoyed this and spent many hours doing extra things for which I was praised. But the older I got, the less special I became. Others surpassed me in and out of the classroom; I became lazier. Eventually I pretty much gave up trying to advance in the arts, resigned to my fate as a jack of all trades. I stuck with the education for mainly legal obligations. But the spirit never died in me.

More recently, I have been feeling particularly creative inside. I have had many ideas and even some forms of inspiration. Despite this, I have as of yet failed to create. My fruits did not flower or flourish; my wishful works wilted. I seem unable to substantiate my creative energies in any form other than mere thoughts. Doubt I did not, however, as I know the power of a metaphorical seed sewn in the minds of others. Words are my weapon.

Which brings us back to the present in the chronology of my narration. The here and now. The what and why, and the how. I want to put myself across, I want to share my thoughts with others and have feelings and beliefs reciprocated. But I am too shy. I am not willing to draw the necessary attention of others in the right form. So I hide behind words on a screen, hoping they might one day catch the eye of somebody willing to break that barrier and let me out of my bubble into the real world.

Scott Pilgrim vs. My Life

I just saw Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. I loved it. The comic-style effects were a bit weird at first, but you got used to them and they really changed the dynamic of the film. Admittedly it was an unusual crossover of real-life and fantasy, but that again didn’t detract from the film, it added to it. Anyway, as I have mentioned previously, films always make me feel a sort of happy/sad that leads to me thinking about life. This one was no different.

I have been thinking over the past week or two about stuff I could do. Stuff that’s fun, creative; stuff that might be popular; stuff that might make money. I can’t really think of anything right now. Maybe it’s just me, that I’m unoriginal, unimaginative or uninspired. But I like to think I have a good imagination, and good inspiration. I dunno. Anyway, thinking of things that I’ve seen other people do, and considering those routes, makes me wonder. I can’t seem to narrow anything down specifically: I would like to write a book, write some songs, do lots of things. Whenever I try, and compare my ideas to successful ones, it makes me feel spectacularly average. I’ve always been fairly good at things I do, but as I’ve got older, others have become very good in one or two areas; I have remained okay at lots of things. I’ve done football, boxing, running, guitar, piano, art, computer stuff. Nothing seems to be my niche. It’s frustrating because I can’t seem to express all my internal emotionally charged energy in an understandable form that I, if not others, enjoy.

Midnight Mind Machine

Does anybody else have this problem?

On a normal night, I go to bed at around 10 or 11pm, go to sleep and wake up about 8. Fine. Nothing wrong there. But in the holidays and at weekends, I have a bit of a bad habit of staying up late- for no reason at all except I enjoy the liberty. However, when I do finally collapse into my bed around 2am (after this blog post), the transition begins.

While my physical energy drains away into numbness, my mind, my brain, my mental capacity, skyrockets. I’m not kidding. I try to relax in a sort of meditative state, but wind up half an hour later thinking again. And it’s not like I turn into an intellectual genius either; I find myself exploring every aspect of life, social to financial. Some of the topics I cover, for instance, are: what I’m going to do in the future- school, work, etc; my social life; exercise and eating plans; possible scenarios for the day ahead. The list is limitless. I seem to try and plan my whole life in these fleeting thoughts. At the time everything seems like a good idea, a revelation. Even though I know it’s all complete nonsense. Honestly.

In the day I am quite a rational thinker. I plan ahead to some extent, but try to take things as they come. I am intelligent and sensible. I like to dream, but I have a grip on reality. At night, on the other hand, anything is possible. I ignore the angel on my shoulder and turn to the devil on my pillow. But I never follow through. And sometimes, I just can’t tell which is which- dream or destiny, madness or genius.

I plan to keep two diaries: one for day, one for night. I will record both mindsets, and try to live life by each. Maybe it’s futile, but maybe, just maybe in the future, I’ll be thankful I did and never look back…