(Archive Post – March 17, 2017)
To be strong doesn’t mean that you can’t be hurt. More often than not it means that you’ve been hurt over and over again. Repeatedly. Strength doesn’t come from the absence of tribulation. It comes from having the shit kicked out of you and carrying on. That slow trudge that comes from possessing nothing other than the will to carry on.
I don’t believe that I am special. I doubt that I’ve endured any more than others have. My life has been a series of mistakes and failures carefully wrapped in the sparse shreds of success. The perpetual underdog, I was raised knowing that the cards were stacked against me. “You need to be twice as good, in order to be viewed half as smart,” my father would tell me.
An interesting mindset to grow up with I suppose. But, insecurity is not what ails me. I don’t lack self-confidence, and am not stricken with any inferiority complexes. What gets me down is that more often than not, the people I’m surrounded by just aren’t up to snuff. I find it tiring always having to explain things. It becomes frustrating dealing with those that celebrate their simplistic nature and inability to comprehend the intricacies of living a life worthwhile.
It’s maddening and liberating at the same time. The inner battle of dealing with mediocre people can really take it out of you. Fuck! What I wouldn’t give to actually be half as smart. Perhaps then none of this shit would bother me… Ignorance truly is bliss.