I dislike ‘popular’ music. I detest the talentless celebrity.
I glorify the unknown/unfound artist, author, or musician who finds passion in what they do, and try to become one myself.
I lose myself in books and crafts and avoid most social events. I can’t, yet, decipher if this is a form of escapism or just merely pleasure.
I feel boring because I can’t contribute to most peoples conversations.
I’m not up to date on sports. I don’t watch sitcoms. I try to avoid being exposed to the viral meme of the day unless it has some sort of artistic or scientific relation.
I try to find inspiration in all things, but I often come away uneffected.
I need an environment that triggers my brain.
I fall easily into complacency and become bitter because of it, but that starts a chain reaction of my quest to find inspiration and motivation and new things, new people.
I need to be alone often to think, to experiment, to create, to fail and learn. I often miss the rage that kept me driven. Happiness might be overrated. Conventional conformity holds me back sometimes more than the average consumer but the struggle for success..the success that our society deems most worthy, pushes me to continue the journey of this trivial dance.
A lot of people probably think me vapid, but I think it’s because I’m too quiet. I hold back. I don’t share. I don’t make known the things I see when I close my eyes.