From everything I read and generally observe, you’re going to need to act like your happy and confident most of the time to get anywhere in life.
Well to get ahead, to get clear of the pack. I guess that’s the point, if you really want to get ahead of the pack, if that’s an important enough goal for you, then you’re better off to slap on a smile and get on with it.
But what a torment really, to be or not to be, that is the question. You’ve actually got to pretend you’re feeling positive and confident even if you’re not otherwise people will desert you, not trust you, be that much more likely to do you over and dump you in a second.
It’s risky to feel anxious and depressed because no one will want to know you and you’ll just be compounding the situation.
Is that why we have a world full of people willing to believe anything that looks like it offers something more, and so many fake crap artists going at it, pushing their half baked nonsense on the world, desperate for even car crash attention just because people are so afraid of being alone and having to make a decision for themselves.
It’s so risky and dangerous to be out on a limb, so we huddle together like sheep, our brains sensing the nature of selection in favour of not being wrong.
So you play the game. Whether you’re better for it we can only assume.
Where does this weakness and doubt spring from? That’s what makes me ask, do I have to go out and pretend I’m destined to effortlessly dominate, or shall I just quietly fall by the way to get bulldozed by history?
What is the best outcome, for those lucky enough to choose? That’s what I often think, I choose not to do the things that I would like to think I could to, because I’m too busy internalizing and overthinking.
It just seems like it would be a lot of work to be rich and have heaps of honeys and be super talented as well, and you might still be unsatisfied. You might be crestfallen for having come up short.
But then I see all messed up people wandering around sadly, I mean I’m sure they’re doing fine but I look at them glad to not have their life but all the same not really having much to be thankful for myself in terms of feeling like I’m completely fulfilled in what I do. I don’t know what that is.
I see that they’re happy to lay down and accept their fate, whereas I am not. They’re happy with what they’ve got, and I’m not. So who’s the real achiever?
Maybe this all just indicates how concerned and afraid and anxious I am about becoming a featureless middle aged average person. Maybe that’s an interesting theme to explore, trying to remain hip and hang onto what was important about that when facing this wall of mediocrity baring down on you that will shrivel and eventually destroy you.
But there’s nothing to be gained from not hopelessly believing everything is fine and you can achieve anything.
The pessimist knows more, but the optimist can do more.
The wise loser or the ignorant winner?
To the winner the spoils, the hollow victory of feeling like it doesn’t really matter.
To the pessimist the spectators gaze, removed, deprived, victimised.
Which is better off?
