Originality is a concept I've spent entirely (and completely) to long wondering about. You could say it's because I'm a narcissist and I'm obsessed with myself, or you could say it's simply human to want to stand out- to want to be different. Originality is often lusted after because in a world where we are told we are all "special" is the very thing that makes us the same.
And believe me- I've had my phases. The most notable however was when I was "not like the other girls" ah yes, a quirky, unoriginal, sexist, beautiful time. Like many annoying 11 year old girls, I thought that I was somehow superior to any other girl my age because I "didn't like makeup" and I "didn't date two thousand boys" and I "only hang out with guys, because it's less drama" not that any other girl my age was like that at all, but like many "different girls" I felt rejected by the baseline and completely misinterpreted definition of what it means to be "girly" or "feminine"
But what makes us humans so uncomfortable with being generic? The neediness to be different among people in general, I believe, stems from an insecurity or fear of mediocrity because- why wouldn't you fear mediocrity?
About a year back I came barging into my Dads room with a thought that "Our lives are meaningless and that we just repeat the same routine everyday, also religion was pointless because if we live to do the same thing everyday there is no greater purpose" yea. It was one of THOSE nights. He directed me to Ecclesiastes 1 (read)
Meaningless! Meaningless!"
says the Teacher.
"Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless."
3 What do people gain from all their labors
at which they toil under the sun?
4 Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
7 All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
8 All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
9 What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
And to this day it remains one of the most relatable chapters I've ever read
It wasn't hard for me to feel this way because at time the only thing that was certain in my life was waking up at 6 am for school and inevitable death one day :))))
I'm not sure what the statistic is for midlife crisis's at 13 but through and through I was tortured by this idea of never being anything besides average
A very wise person once told me the world needs the same average people to go round' and yes maybe the world can spin with the hamsters running on the wheel but the world needs increasingly different people in order to change
I almost think you need to bring something to the table in order to survive. At least I feel I have to. And maybe I have this convoluted and completely wrong and idealistic idea of what it means to fulfill a purpose in this life, and maybe it stems from some pretentious thinking habit I might've developed from using the library from a young age and maybe I just need to swallow and accept the fact that I'm an ant in retrospect butttt denial is a fun place ( no I'm kidding) I'm more self aware then I'd like to be.
(Side note: The most comfortable with having a mediocre life are the backbone of society and don't let anyone tell you different)
Originality, uniqueness, authenticity- do such things exist in this world anymore? There is nothing new under the sun besides advancements on what's already here. (Tesla's, on-line education, ETC)
And maybe I sound unnecessarily pessimistic or like I'm talking as if I've seen it all, but it's very easy especially in today's age to "see it all"
If I'm not making any sense it's probably a sign that my angsty morals as a 14 year old should probably not be put on paper anymore.
But before I go, let me leave you with one question, do we all have something to bring to the table, or are some of us doomed to being ants.
