It feels like fucking depression, that’s what. I came up in the world with the sense that there was something special about me in particular. To be fair, I was quite intelligent and very talented, racing ahead of my peers in terms of creative ability. They caught me pretty quick though, and little did I know that there were fuckloads of people rising from their baby boomer nests with similar talent. I latched onto dreams that were to become obsolete as the music industry collapsed under a wave of piracy. I wanted to be distant and enigmatic while all around me web 2.0 demanded transparency and ungodly amounts of content. I stubbornly held on while others adopted and adapted. I started ahead of the pack, very quickly got drawn back in, and ended up way behind, where I remain to this day. That sense that I was special slowly but surely faded away, leaving me with nothing but an awful lack of objective success to draw self worth from. Now, as the probabilities slowly crush the possibilities, I’m trying to figure out what I am, flailing about in the startling hollowness of failure, watching people who started from disadvantage leap frogging me and my privilege, no one to blame but myself.
Self awareness hey. Overrated.
Then other days, I’m like, yeah. I’m awesome. So whatever I guess.