Checking things off a checklist, in itself, isn't satisfying. It's not like it takes a lot of time to propel that dash of graphite through the rigid, dark box. I don't sit there and look at it later, smirking arrogantly, as if I'm a Greek God who just smote a heretic.
It's the other stuff that's satisfying. Looking back at it later, knowing that I did that, among the long list of other things I had to do. Remembering the late nights, followed by setting my alarm and rising early, on my midwinter break. (Some break it's been; the only rest I got was staying up 'til one AM playing Doki Doki Literature Club, and seeing Birds of Prey).
It's the character that follows. It's the ability to say that I'm more than just a face in the crowd.
"If you know me in person, and you describe me in one word, that word is "smart." In reality, that's innovation you're facing. The type of innovation built from years of deviating from the norm, of forging my own path. It takes innovation to find satisfaction in something other than club membership--something like making albums or novels, and promoting them. I'm rare in that I'm willing to do things that people rarely do in ways that haven't been done. For example, how many other female producers can you name?
"It takes a level of tenacity to get to that point. The things I do aren't easy. It takes hours upon hours of hard work for a person of my initial intellect to complete Calculus II in 10th grade. Once, I spent 56 hours writing a novel the length of The Great Gatsby.
When presented with a task, I don't just complete it. I pour everything I have into it, ensuring that it turns out perfect. I have a singleminded focus: when I start a project, it consumes me, echoing in my mind, reforming itself over and over until it's free of flaws and ready to come to life.
The final result tends to be high quality, due to my final quality: I am competitive. [Read as: a perfectionist, a dangerous and beautiful combination of obsessive and insecure]. I can't stand being second best, which means that once I've agreed to something, I will do everything in my power and then some to make sure that it turns out not just perfect, but better than anything anyone else created."
Before you think this is real, let me remind you of this: I am a writer. I lie. I have angels and demons fighting in my head (as you can tell by reading my latest book, about risen demons fighting other demons), and I can't trust any of them. An angel says I'm perfect. A devil says I'm useless. Both are dangerous, and I can't let myself to believe any of them.
This is the angel speaking. The same one that tells me I can do anything. The one that says I can say yes to any request, and also fill my soul with things I've done for myself. The one that tells me my songs are worth hearing, and my books are worth sharing. The one that says that it's ridiculous no one loves me yet, since I'm easily the most charismatic person you've ever seen.
We need both sides tugging at us, in order to find balance and a functional truth. I let the devil speak too much. So here's the angel.
