Listening to:

I ask myself this question every day, and lately I haven’t been able to come up with anything halfway decent. This may truly be a useless blog, but I’m certain I can get half as many hits as shit like this:

So perhaps I should make it worth the while for the twenty-something people who actually stumbled across this website.

Why do I write? Why do I subject myself to the existential tragedy that is the blank page? Is it a desire to express myself creatively? To draw attention to myself like your local high-school slut (respect)? Or because I have nothing better to do, or have failed so hard at the mainstream system that I feel a need to grow by ways and means of myself, rather than relying on some piece of paper with fancy print on it to get me through my “professional career”.

Ah, yes, the promise of the American Dream. Go to school, get good grades. Don’t talk in class, don’t talk back to your teacher, don’t question the teaching method. Do your homework, study hard, get accepted to a “good” college. Get a degree, get a job sucking the corporate dick, live happily ever after paying off student loans until you’re 138.

Okay, perhaps I’m being overly pessimistic, but I guess just going to school and the “real world” of standardized testing and job ladders was never meant for me. As far back as kindergarten, I was always more concerned with drawing circles in the air and letting my imagination run wild for days. Of course, this was unacceptable “weird” behavior, or clearly a sign that my parents were slipping me LSD in my Cheerios! I couldn’t help the fact that video games and fantasy novels were much more interesting then being tested about which white guy sailed across which ocean. I never did find school interesting. Oh sure there would be a decent teacher every now and again who I would strike a chord with, and I found that most of my teachers enjoyed my company a lot. Many of them praised me for being “bright”. Yet, I rarely if ever finished my homework and half-completed a bunch of assignments. I used to just think laziness was something built-in, a gene I was born with and could never escape. Oh, how I was disenchanted.

But I’m not necessarily complaining; I’ve lived a very comfortable, middle-class white life and count my blessings everyday. But I have found the ultimate evil, at least for myself in my life: the unspeakable, abject horror known as mediocrity. It holds sway over many a person’s existence for years, sometimes even an entire lifetime. I can say that mediocrity has been dominating my experience of life for the last fifteen years.

Not that I naturally and consciously wish to gravitate towards such a paradigm of uselessness devoid of meaning. However, I have spent my years attempting to avoid mediocrity at any cost, only to find myself deep inside it.

How did this all come to be?

So, before I lose any more readers, I say to you my fellow hominids, at the top of the branch from the bottom of my great-ape-dna heart: I got mediocre grades in high school, I never went “college shopping”, I have dropped out of college, went back, and dropped out again. I have held menial jobs in the manufacturing or service industry, and have drifted away from them as well. I’ve always been a big nerd and my experience with the fairer sex makes me want to put my picture next to “late bloomer” in the dictionary. I’ve been broke several times (right now is an excellent example), have been indecisive about career decisions and dream-chasing, and have had emotional lows that I don’t even wish to begin to dwell on in this post.

I don’t say this to elicit sympathy. I know some of you very smart scientific ones are thinking “this is obviously just attention whoring”. Please, if I wanted to piss the details of my personal life all over the net like graffiti near Dodger Stadium in order to get “attention”, I would have started doing this years ago. I am posting this because of the “will to power”, because my subconscious wants this shit out of my head for once, because I can, or whatever scenario you think fits best.

Maybe I’m a loser, but despite all those “shortcomings” I have a few character traits I wouldn’t trade for anything in the entire world, except maybe a date with Rachel McAdams… nah, maybe not:

1. I am endlessly fascinated with a huge array of subjects, from history to linguistics to acting to computers.

2. I always attempt to use empathy when dealing with another member of my species.

3. I always end up questioning everything: from ideas I first read in the Bible, to the idea that the only way to be happy is to die with the most shiny toys.

They haven’t always brought me joy though. My love of so many subjects and artistic pursuits has left me head-scratching on many a night, wondering what “field” I’m supposed to “specialize” in. My empathy has been a vital part of my personality but there have been plenty of times where I haven’t stood up for something I believe in because I was afraid of *gasp* social rejection. And questioning all that you have known, while it’s great for the expansion of your mind, can also make you feel isolated and longing.

So what’s the point? If you ever come to this blog looking for career advice, lifehack tips, or dick jokes, I can provide only one of the above. This isn’t for useful information, this is for useless shit, like how certain ants make other ants their slaves (true story), why this loser wants to do ‘shrooms and peyote, and why I think most religions are bad, but spirituality is good.

My goal in life (more in my next post) is to create and make other people (even if it’s just a few) realize how incredible, precious and mysterious life really is. And to do blow off the vinyl.

If anyone cares to psychoanalyze me leave a comment. No I was not sexually abused as a child. Thanks for asking.