Writers block has hit hard… I’m unsure if I can even call myself a writer as I have been so adverse to sitting down and writing anything down. It’s a bitch of a hand to be dealt. Not knowing where it is that you best fit. I think most people deal with this issue, and some come to a conclusion easier than others. It’s just in my bones I know I can contribute to society, I know I can offer a unique perspective. However, being shot down over, and over again. It’s hard. It’s inescapable, and it’s drowning unique ideas in a myriad of falsities and under represented populations. The system as it is, is broken. We have new voices being silenced and old perspectives are taking precedence. It just seems that with all of the technological advancement and changes in how we run as a society. We should change how society runs. We should change who is heard, who is acclaimed. I’m certainly not saying that it should be me, but I am saying that new voices need to be heard. There are so many issues with the way society is running, there are so many discrepancies in our school of thought as a whole. The new has been trying to work its’ way into the big picture. The problem is, is that, no one is willing to listen. Change is hard, and things are already difficult. Tension is high, and hysteria has made its way all around the globe. We are struggling to pick up pieces and put them back together. The problem is, that we have so many new pieces, so many new facets of life, in the modern world, how are we supposed to make different puzzles fit together? Why don’t we just throw away the fucking puzzle and make a new one? We need to be organized as a society, sure, but why don’t we allow new voices to take stage for a while? We need patience, and the availability to be heard, even if the ideas are new. Rather, BECAUSE the ideas are new.
Work, home, repeat. Leaving our minds behind and letting ourselves fall into a cycle of torment. Dealing with asshole bosses, rude customers, unruly coworkers, lewd comments, etc. Here we are trapped, with no end in site. You have to pay the bills don’t you? You have to keep moving in order to keep food on the table, and yet you are miserable the whole. Entire. Time. You think and think, what’s the solution, how do you get out of here. Planning and planning relentlessly, memorizing your most likely escape route. Yet, it still feels like you aren’t doing enough, nothing impactful is happening and you just feel screwed. Like the whole world was built to hurt, to degrade, to destroy. To take away hope, and love, and control. It’s a depressing reality that you just can’t except, so you try again, memorize a new escape, try so hard to figure out a way to get out quickly because everyday you are stuck in this cycle is another day that you feel closer to loosing who you are.
I’m frustrated, I’m lost, I’m miserable. I need something to let up, I can’t keep going from job to job that makes me feel worthless. I have a working mind, I have a million thoughts a minute and they’re all telling me that I need to find a way out. But, the pressure is too much, there is no easy escape. Hell, there isn’t even a guaranteed escape. The rest of my life could look exactly like this and if that isn’t terrifying I don’t know what is.
Niche – denoting or relating to products, services, or interests that appeal to a small, specialized section of the population.
Why in society are we expected, or made, to find a niche? Why do we have to denote and specialize ourselves into a single section of the population? This is where many people run into issues, it’s where people lose certain aspects of themselves, or at least push certain interests, and joys to the back burner. In order to pursue a single portion of themselves, and hope that they will be accepted there. The truth is, I have spent a lot of time searching for my niche, my specialized area. I have come to some sort of conclusion, one that I don’t necessarily like. Alas, it’s who I am, and who I am is uncategorized. I have so many different things that I love, things that I want out of life. Figuring out how to make those things happen, and how to profit off of them is nearly impossible so far, in this journey. I love drawing, writing, thinking, learning. I love science, and nature, travel and reading. It’s silly to me that having too many interests is something that I have to worry about. Something that isolates me, in a niche filled world. With social media blowing up so much and becoming a platform that in many ways rules the world, where is there room for us? The people stubbornly refusing to categorize themselves, and in doing so being left to explore their many passions alone. It’s overwhelming to have so many things to delve into, I can understand why it’s more appealing to look at a profile with structure, a feed with aesthetic appeal, etc. However, when we scroll through these endless pages of people perfectly categorized and looking so happy while living in their niche bubble, it makes us feel even more lost. With an even larger need to be found, to fit somewhere. When we fail, it hurts even more, knowing that others have succeeded, and do succeed in finding where they fit all of the time. I know that I spent, and continue to spend, a lot of time contemplating where it is that I may fit in this technological generation, where anything seems possible. And yet, it seems impossibly difficult to get anywhere, to find success, to find happiness, and to truly be allowed to enjoy life. Can you honestly say that you have a specific category that you fit into? I simply can’t justify pushing anything to the back burner because all of these interests are what make me, me. And ALL of them should have a chance to be pursued, to be shown to the world. I am unwilling to disguise myself and not share those things about me just because it doesn’t fit into a category. Being “nicheless” is exhausting in a society that excels in grouping people together, for better or for worse.
Feet will meet the ground only when you are willing to stand up. For a naive young traveler, this is the belief that drives them. Putting foot to ground, standing alone in a sea of confused and ignorant men. They hold their own path and put one foot in front of the other. Cradling something much more profound than mediocrity in their hands, desiring more and living for less. Materialism is not for the wanderer, it is not physical things that captivate their being, and possess their soul. It may seem self-righteous, or condescending, the path which these travelers take.
Seeming to be, and being are two very different things. The ideas and opinions you may have are held in your own right. However, these preconceived notions may blind you from the truth. The undeniable truth that these people, these wanderers, who stray away from the path set out for them are not better than anyone else, and I’m sure will never claim to be. There is simply a wall that they have been unable to tear down. One that keeps them from gaining human connection but allows them to see the impossibility of the world. To see every beautiful landscape, every sunny day, every tree, flower, or clover as something more than it’s appearance. The wheels are turning, the world is moving in some amazing way and it seems as though most people miss it. I feel it’s a shame that people are unable, or refuse to, grasp the magnitude of everything around them. Everything that has been untouched by human hands is tossed aside, where it should be celebrated, loved, and cared for. It should be cherished more than anything else. We live and breath the processes happening all around us, yet we show it no respect, no gratitude. All the secrets of creation lie within these landscapes, these ecosystems, these living things. Have most of us forgotten that they live and breath? It may be different than that of people, but does that make them less important, or more? The young, and possibly naive wanderer thinks of these things, and even more so feels them. The mysticism and magic of nature can not and will not escape them. It may set them apart, it may ostracize them from people who feel or think differently. Some may even call them strange, deranged, or moronic. The wanderer may feel that way without being told they are, simply because it is difficult to stand away from the crowd, to think and feel so fiercely oppositional to the rest of the ever growing civilized world. To stray from the normal, is to open yourself up to the extraordinary, it is allowing yourself to think, feel, and act on your true desires and passions. To become the person who could quite possibly find happiness, a happiness uninhabited by fear, by the urge to fit in, by the need to be valuable in a society that does not value you. You must put value in your individualism, in your capacity to think and feel so deeply for something outside yourself.
The weeping wanderer is the captive, the wanderer that has left their dreams behind in order to conform to a standard not meant for them. The naive young traveler has put foot to ground, and may be standing alone, but has a fire in their belly, and has put all notions of normalcy behind them. Hopeful for adventure, for freedom, and entranced by the natural world around them.
The moon is bright in the night sky with an unexplainable shine, lighting up the clouds that billow around it. It’s like a ceremony of sorts, preparing for the new. The clouds quite literally dancing around the effervescence of the moon. Calling to it and begging to get closer, just to have one more glance before they are forced to overshadow it’s brilliant light, light that fills up the darkness and claims it. No, it will not allow there to be complete darkness, at least not on this night. On this night, it is full and beautiful, it is prepared to fight against the forces that are determined to hide it. The sky is alive tonight. Truly alive, moving and breathing in it’s own way, in such a poetic way that it brings tears to my eyes. It is like seeing the world from a completely different perspective, this light is different, this light is raw and real. My perspective now is as if I am a group of atoms taking up space that is not meant to be mine. I am here, but I am simply occupying space that vibrates with life, life so much more profound than my own.
It’s cool light, a light completely unfazed by the material world and living a life completely its own. I am lucky enough to be here in this perfect moment, in this moment where the clouds open up perfectly around the moon, heeding to something other than the wind, not allowing themselves to give way to the path they are meant to take. I stand and I watch this dance, this movement of things that I know in my head are not alive, but in my heart I feel them dancing, I feel them proceeding with their own ceremony, a ceremony recognizing life and beauty and light. And as quickly as it started, the wind pushes the clouds over the moon, but the dancing doesn’t stop, the dancing won’t stop. The cycle will continue, the dance, the fight, the awe-inspiring light won’t be tamed, not tonight.
I continue to write, to think, and to breathe the wild. My heart soars in my daydreams and is crushed in reality. I feel this incessant ache in my chest when I think of the beauty that is out there and the beauty I have yet to see. How do I make my dreams a reality, how do I carry on in a world that rips my dreams away on a daily basis. Am I crazy, weird, or am I just unique? Everyone in this amazing world has dreams and aspirations, I’m willing to bet that everyone of them is different. Unfortunately that isn’t what societal conformity is all about, and sadly most individual voices will never be heard, or seen, or achieved. Being told that things are improbable, if not impossible, as you want them is deafening to the human psyche and will continue to destroy dreams until we decide to change our mindset on life and pursue what we love. Simply because we want to, not because it will be the most lucrative or ‘successful’. What else is success besides finding immense joy in life? Why do we waste time following a carbon copy of what we should be? Is it fear of the unknown? I know that I’m afraid, constantly, I’m afraid of what may become of this world, of the ecosystem, and of me. I wonder if there is a place for me here, will I be able to ever truly be happy, being who I am? Will I be able to live the crazy, amazing life that I dream of? It seems like nowadays all I do is dream. I long for a life that I don’t have, yet. The truth is though that I am drawn enough to this dream that I will either make it to that place, to that feeling or die trying. In these daydreams that I have, I feel shadows of an emotion that I have yet to experience completely and my drive comes solely from that. I absolutely need to experience that feeling completely. I need what I crave, this dream is an addiction, I find pieces of the feeling that I want so desperately in small things, day hikes, or a beautiful sunset, even birds chirping in the morning, a single tree that catches my eye. The feeling I crave is so easy to catch in small doses, but I need more, and it drives me to achieve. I need that joy and I will spend my whole life searching for it. I’m okay with that, excited for it. My real concern is, are you? Are you dreaming, hoping, achieving? Are you working for something you want or for something you are told to want? There is an unsurmountable difference between living for what you want and living for what you should want. Spend everyday questioning what you know and feel, and try to find the you that has been overshadowed. You will be very glad you did.