Whatever happened to being average?

I like to think I have a unique voice, but in all honesty, I’m nobody special. I could sit in my garage and type up a literary masterpiece exclaiming how great of a writer I am, but honestly, there’s a million other people who are better writers.  Sure, they won’t write with my flair or pizazz, but they have the capability to be ten times better than I ever will.

I write stuff down. I post it on an internet web site. Some people like it, some people ignore it. That’s the way of the world. How is anything else any different? I see people living ordinary lives sharing ordinary information and I don’t see the content. You’re getting married? Great, wonderful, thanks for keeping the divorce attorney’s in business. You are having a kid? Great, wonderful, thanks for ruining a human life out of your selfishness to HAVE something you can call your OWN. It’s like everybody is a superhero wearing a mask. The girl at Starbucks isn’t a “barista”, she’s an aspiring model and actress waiting for her big break! Whatever happened to just being what you are?

That’s like saying I clock in at Sears and tell all my co-workers, “hey guys, I’m only doing this until I make it big as a writer!” Psh, I have a better chance of french kissing a rattlesnake before I ever make it big writing, whatever that means. I don’t write because it pays the bills, I do this because it’s free therapy.

Writing: my silver medal psychiatrist.

I wake up every morning and check Facebook to see all my important friends talking about their important lives.  “I’m going to Hollywood today!”, “I’m making octopus for dinner!”, “I won a staring contest against a mannequin!”. All of it is trite bullshit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that normal people shouldn’t be proud of their accomplishments, they should! But should normal people share their every inner desire and feeling with the world wide web? Fuck, no. The majority of people on the interwebs are comfortable saying what they want to do instead of actually doing it.

Unless you have Superman-Jesus powers, you’re only interesting to people who care about you.

This guy has something to say.

I think everybody is so obsessed with being “somebody” that they forget they are just like “everybody”. The girl I absolutely adore at the moment (and she likes me back!) is brilliant, but she’s only brilliant in my eyes. To everybody else that encounters her on the street or in a supermarket, she’s just another person. Your drooling alien baby that you just had that looks semi-retarded might be cute to you, but to me its a failure in birth control. That new guy you think you love because he fucks you like you owned him money? The one with two kids from two different women? He’s not the man of your dreams, he’s simply a man with very determined sperm… and you happen to think he’s what you want *right now*. Living in an illusion isn’t really living, it’s pretending.

I think we enjoy these super-hero movies like X-Men and Iron Man because as humans, we fantasize that we’re so much better than others, that we’re uniquely -different-, but in the end, we’re no better than the people we look down upon. I’m ok with being average looking, or an average writer or average anything. I’m stuck on this planet with 7.3 billion other souls who are all trying their damnedest to be unique. I’d rather slink back into my computer chair and just be Nick. If I end up being labeled a writer or a loser, it won’t matter to me. I’m not trying to be a somebody–I’m just trying to live this life with a modicum of happiness.

“Why try to fit in when you can stand out? Isn’t that what this life is all about?”

Or maybe being average is actually acceptable now?