THE PATCHWORK OF IDOLS

Sunday, 13 August 2017


I used to spend a lot of time wishing I was different to how I was. I wished to be funnier and prettier and better at a different thing every week. I wished I could paint better or make this or had that skill. I spent so much time wishing I felt happier. In fact, I spent so much time wishing I was all these things I wasn’t that I felt like complete shit and spent barely any time doing the things I wanted to be better at and a lot of time beating myself up about the fact that I wasn’t about to become better any time soon.

Guys, you have no idea how shitty I’d make myself feel because I wasn’t this way or that way. I can remember back to being a little kid, and even just last year, where I’d be in a frustrated heap of snot and tears because I was so fucking mad I wasn’t there already. The person I knew I could become felt so close I could see her, just under the haze of my own disillusionment.

The thing is, I still feel like that. I still have days and weeks, if I’m lucky just fleeting moments, where life can feel shit and overwhelming and when I feel not enough and too much all at once. And, you know, I don’t think I’m alone in feeling this way. Perhaps you’ve felt like this before. You might even feel like this right now.

These internal struggles and conflicts, aren’t they all just part of the human condition? What I think really exacerbates these difficult but very real and true parts of life is that we ignore them all entirely until they bubble and boil and spill over all life to the point where they simply can’t be ignored anymore. We tell everyone we’re “fine.” We curate the projection of our lives to minute details and strive to become flat caricatures of one sameness to share in tiny flashes boxes.

Honestly we have so much noise constantly rammed into our faces that it’s hard to ever truly connect with anything that comes close to your “higher self.” Who is she and what does she want? Is the shoes and the cars and the lips and the coffees and the laughing with friends drinking coke that society tells me to want? The stuff that I’ll see and want and buy and feel a spark for a second, did I ever really want that? I’ll try and convince myself that I want otherwise but I’m still working 50 hours a week and spending half my wages on rent and the rest on stuff. I’m still hungry for validation and success on predetermined terms. With all this noise how the fuck can I figure out who I really am and what I really want, and really, in the midst of it all, does it even matter?

Sorry but I don’t we can ever really escape the frustrations that go along with living this life. They’re all around and they’re in your head. What I’m trying to understand is that maybe we don’t have to escape them. Maybe we can recognise their presence, consistently consider how much power we want to give them and then go about constructing our own precursors to personal success. If you go on holding yourself up to these standards we think are set by the world around us we will forever come up short. It’s not even a case of comparing yourself to one other human. I compare every facet of my being to the highs of all human existence, cursing myself to falling short to the patchwork idol.

There’s no conclusion I can give for you or myself, only that gratitude for where I am and an understanding that I will never arrive and that life is always is motion. This is all an illusion, you’re ok.


Gabi
xx

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