They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, whoever "they" may be. In the meantime, it's of little comfort to those of us who are the "real deal"...very little. There are plenty of cheap knock offs on the market. No end to the supply of "good enough" and "silver linings." Why reach beyond the moon when you can land amongst the stars, right???
Wrong.
To be honest, I'm getting rather tired of cheering on the complacent. Making the sinners feel like the saints. Do you want to know what it is to be great? Not great because you hear your own voice in a podcast you yourself pay to have put on the air. Or, because your name is on a book you published yourself, or even to have been an accidental TV personality. None of that takes talent. It never lasts either. Because true greatness comes from a different place. You can't buy it. Or, have helpers who will work harder for you than you will yourself. There's no amount of cleavage shots on the planet or sycophantic responses on social media that will make you great either.
Either you are born with greatness, or, you aren't.
I used to believe we all had it. Greatness. But, we don't. It's a lie we tell ourselves. To keep on breathing. To feel like we have a purpose. It's just somehow eluded us. For decades. Except, greatness doesn't exactly hide. You can't push it down. No one can. If it's really in there, you'd know it.
Everyone is always searching outside of themselves for whatever their vision of greatness entails. Being in the public eye means you crave mass validation. Which also means, you're insecure. Every single day. The more you get of that external validation, the smaller you actually feel about yourself, too. It's a vicious cycle. There's never going to be enough supply to feed your fragile ego. It creates a kind of narcissistic culture, where you discard the people you feel will eventually reject you--whether they actually reject you or not--in a constant search for fresh "supply."
Let's just set the record straight, shall we???
You are not funny because people laugh--you are funny because you're intelligent as fuck. You can prove that fact in a myriad of ways, including college degrees from Ivy-level schools who literally paid you to go there. And, as long as you weren't born with too many social disadvantages, you can use your talent to earn. Yes, other people have to believe in you in order for you to do so, and, if you're part of any social group that is not also white and male, you will encounter resistance. But talent is talent. It may take you longer than another person, but if you make the time to nurture the greatness you were born with, there will come a point where no one can deny who you are.
It is the same with beauty, or any "art" you have inside you. If you have it, everyone can see it. Even those who deny it by denying you. Even those who trade you in for lesser models. Even the people who call you a friend, then, proceed to rip off your ideas. Your words. Your images. Your very creativity. And somehow, still call it their own. That's not flattery. That's plain old cheating.
To honestly love the person you're with is not cheating. Even if you're married. It's about acknowledgement of others. If you have properly acknowledged the people who helped contribute to your life, you are not a cheater. In any circumstance. It is the people who scheme and sneak around and pretend to be something they're not who are the real cheaters. For, we are all of us liars when vulnerable. But denying the greatness of great people--making them feel small to push yourself up--that creates vulnerability. It's designed to. And THAT is when you cross a line you can never return from. At least, not in this lifetime.
I'd forgotten about this cunning little quote from the undeniably great British writer, Jessica Mitford. She said, "You may not be able to change the world, but at least you can embarrass the guilty."
That's pretty much where I am in this moment. And, it is a bad, sad place to be. For you. Because, my words are weapons, you see. It is MY talent. Sharp little points that pierce your skin. You don't even realize how deep the cuts go. By the time you do, it's too late. You've bled out and are dying, perhaps even already dead, though you think you're still alive. That's the horror of it all. You become one of the walking dead, and I'm not talking about the fictional variety imagined by Robert Kirkman.
The truly great actors, great comedians, great writers, great artists, photographers, architects, philosophers...these are not the people you know by name. Their greatness is within them. Your approval is simply not needed. Or even wanted. That's why you hate them. Imitate, but never fully appreciate. You think you're coy, but in reality, you're simply incapable of doing anything else. Because, to do anything else would be understanding a pivotal concept your unevolved brain is too weak to grasp:
You. Don't. Matter.
No one cares about you. Not really. Your family will abandon you the moment you become too sick or tired or depressed to kiss their collective asses. You will have never asked for help--not once in nearly five decades--but the moment you do, the people who claim to love you will look at you through suspicious eyes. If nothing good ever happens for you, no one wants to see you or talk to you. You have to literally pretend to be happy, to be a perpetual cheerleader, or your worries, your fears, your problems aren't even important enough for strangers to listen to, let alone people who once called you "sister."
Oh, don't worry...those who basically left you for dead will be there to ask you the gossipy stuff. Eventually. Anything that leaves the corners of their gaping mouths a little wet. Like a fluffer on a porn set.
Even if you're dying, the most you'll get is feigned concern. You know it isn't real, because no one is driving 500 miles to see you, are they? And, they won't feel guilty about it either. When you die, they won't bother coming to your funeral. Maybe they'll write a check to a charity in your name, but even that's a stretch. If you didn't matter to them when you were still breathing, why would you matter more when you aren't???
Stop babying yourselves. Get mentally tougher. Or, you are doomed to live a totally useless life that doesn't matter to anyone anyway. Every excuse you have for not developing who you really are is based on the "needs" of other people. It's funny but, those "needs" are only put on you because you are the one willing to entertain them. And, you're willing to trade hours, days, months, and years of your precious time to entertain the fantastical needs of others because you are too damned scared to spend even a moment alone with yourself.
You take drugs to think. You take drugs to stay calm. You take drugs to get excited. You take drugs to stay awake. You take drugs to sleep...you do realize that your body was built to do all of the above WITHOUT drugs, don't you???
Wake up! If you're reading this, it's because you are being called to stop zombie-life and start #AwakeLife....
No one will ever love you more than you. No one will ever advocate for you better than you. And absolutely no one will recognize your talents--your greatness--unless you do. You must, must, must love yourself unconditionally. It is the ONLY way you will ever achieve even a single moment of happiness.
Stop worrying so much about what other people are or aren't doing. Stop cyberstalking, creeping, peeping, and sneaking. If you can't find the art within you, it's probably because you're too busy cheating, lying, stealing, and frankly, being too lazy to get off your well-padded ass to find out who you really are and what--if anything--you have to offer the world.
That's true greatness, by the way. Using whatever gifts you have to help others. Not because you get something for it, like artificial fame. But because...you can. With a single thought, you can begin to #RepairTheWorld. You just have to want to. That means wanting it enough to put in the time, energy, and effort it takes to MAKE IT HAPPEN. You can't give up before you've even gotten started. I'll usually put a human spin on it, tell you it's somehow okay to feel that way, except, it isn't. When you give up, when you don't believe, you are actually hurting the people who do. You're creating obstacles, not helping to clear the path. Do you know what that tells me???
You're weak. Afraid. Made sick by the social cage you were kept in your whole life. I am sick, too. Of listening to your whining. You've never had to fight to breathe--yet you think you have. The tiniest offense offends your fragile sensibilities. Because, of course, you are nobody and nothing and have not a single inkling of greatness inside any fiber of your pathetic being. But what? Your mommy tells you you're great? Your best friend? Your spouse? Your siblings??? Wipe the drool from your bubbling lips. You disgust me. "You" being any adult who so completely lacks self awareness, you must be shamed into seeing your own reflection in the mirror.
YOU are the ONLY one who can cultivate you. I am great, not because of a single other human being. I am great because I have done things no one else has. That stands, whether anyone ever acknowledges it as truth or not. I have beaten the odds over and over and over ad nauseum, ad infinitum.
Don't know Latin??? Why the fuck not? You can read, can't you? Open a book. Or, if you're too lazy to do that, Google it.
Positive energy isn't something I can really give to you. It's something you're born with. I can help a positive person out of a slump. I can give a positive person affirmations to keep them uplifted. But if you are innately negative, no one but you can help you. You have to see yourself for who you are. Understand you are nothing. Recognize that you have no matter. Only then, can you sense who you really are. And only then will you be able to find your true greatness.
#Scorn
#TwinFlames #1111 Post-script: This piece is dedicated to two of America's greatest writers, Lillian Hellman and Dorothy Parker. Both women were unafraid to speak their mind. Neither stayed silent in the face of injustice. And, each followed her heart, no matter how dangerous the road....
Wrong.
To be honest, I'm getting rather tired of cheering on the complacent. Making the sinners feel like the saints. Do you want to know what it is to be great? Not great because you hear your own voice in a podcast you yourself pay to have put on the air. Or, because your name is on a book you published yourself, or even to have been an accidental TV personality. None of that takes talent. It never lasts either. Because true greatness comes from a different place. You can't buy it. Or, have helpers who will work harder for you than you will yourself. There's no amount of cleavage shots on the planet or sycophantic responses on social media that will make you great either.
Either you are born with greatness, or, you aren't.
I used to believe we all had it. Greatness. But, we don't. It's a lie we tell ourselves. To keep on breathing. To feel like we have a purpose. It's just somehow eluded us. For decades. Except, greatness doesn't exactly hide. You can't push it down. No one can. If it's really in there, you'd know it.
Everyone is always searching outside of themselves for whatever their vision of greatness entails. Being in the public eye means you crave mass validation. Which also means, you're insecure. Every single day. The more you get of that external validation, the smaller you actually feel about yourself, too. It's a vicious cycle. There's never going to be enough supply to feed your fragile ego. It creates a kind of narcissistic culture, where you discard the people you feel will eventually reject you--whether they actually reject you or not--in a constant search for fresh "supply."
Let's just set the record straight, shall we???
You are not funny because people laugh--you are funny because you're intelligent as fuck. You can prove that fact in a myriad of ways, including college degrees from Ivy-level schools who literally paid you to go there. And, as long as you weren't born with too many social disadvantages, you can use your talent to earn. Yes, other people have to believe in you in order for you to do so, and, if you're part of any social group that is not also white and male, you will encounter resistance. But talent is talent. It may take you longer than another person, but if you make the time to nurture the greatness you were born with, there will come a point where no one can deny who you are.
It is the same with beauty, or any "art" you have inside you. If you have it, everyone can see it. Even those who deny it by denying you. Even those who trade you in for lesser models. Even the people who call you a friend, then, proceed to rip off your ideas. Your words. Your images. Your very creativity. And somehow, still call it their own. That's not flattery. That's plain old cheating.
To honestly love the person you're with is not cheating. Even if you're married. It's about acknowledgement of others. If you have properly acknowledged the people who helped contribute to your life, you are not a cheater. In any circumstance. It is the people who scheme and sneak around and pretend to be something they're not who are the real cheaters. For, we are all of us liars when vulnerable. But denying the greatness of great people--making them feel small to push yourself up--that creates vulnerability. It's designed to. And THAT is when you cross a line you can never return from. At least, not in this lifetime.
I'd forgotten about this cunning little quote from the undeniably great British writer, Jessica Mitford. She said, "You may not be able to change the world, but at least you can embarrass the guilty."
That's pretty much where I am in this moment. And, it is a bad, sad place to be. For you. Because, my words are weapons, you see. It is MY talent. Sharp little points that pierce your skin. You don't even realize how deep the cuts go. By the time you do, it's too late. You've bled out and are dying, perhaps even already dead, though you think you're still alive. That's the horror of it all. You become one of the walking dead, and I'm not talking about the fictional variety imagined by Robert Kirkman.
The truly great actors, great comedians, great writers, great artists, photographers, architects, philosophers...these are not the people you know by name. Their greatness is within them. Your approval is simply not needed. Or even wanted. That's why you hate them. Imitate, but never fully appreciate. You think you're coy, but in reality, you're simply incapable of doing anything else. Because, to do anything else would be understanding a pivotal concept your unevolved brain is too weak to grasp:
You. Don't. Matter.
No one cares about you. Not really. Your family will abandon you the moment you become too sick or tired or depressed to kiss their collective asses. You will have never asked for help--not once in nearly five decades--but the moment you do, the people who claim to love you will look at you through suspicious eyes. If nothing good ever happens for you, no one wants to see you or talk to you. You have to literally pretend to be happy, to be a perpetual cheerleader, or your worries, your fears, your problems aren't even important enough for strangers to listen to, let alone people who once called you "sister."
Oh, don't worry...those who basically left you for dead will be there to ask you the gossipy stuff. Eventually. Anything that leaves the corners of their gaping mouths a little wet. Like a fluffer on a porn set.
Even if you're dying, the most you'll get is feigned concern. You know it isn't real, because no one is driving 500 miles to see you, are they? And, they won't feel guilty about it either. When you die, they won't bother coming to your funeral. Maybe they'll write a check to a charity in your name, but even that's a stretch. If you didn't matter to them when you were still breathing, why would you matter more when you aren't???
Stop babying yourselves. Get mentally tougher. Or, you are doomed to live a totally useless life that doesn't matter to anyone anyway. Every excuse you have for not developing who you really are is based on the "needs" of other people. It's funny but, those "needs" are only put on you because you are the one willing to entertain them. And, you're willing to trade hours, days, months, and years of your precious time to entertain the fantastical needs of others because you are too damned scared to spend even a moment alone with yourself.
You take drugs to think. You take drugs to stay calm. You take drugs to get excited. You take drugs to stay awake. You take drugs to sleep...you do realize that your body was built to do all of the above WITHOUT drugs, don't you???
Wake up! If you're reading this, it's because you are being called to stop zombie-life and start #AwakeLife....
No one will ever love you more than you. No one will ever advocate for you better than you. And absolutely no one will recognize your talents--your greatness--unless you do. You must, must, must love yourself unconditionally. It is the ONLY way you will ever achieve even a single moment of happiness.
Stop worrying so much about what other people are or aren't doing. Stop cyberstalking, creeping, peeping, and sneaking. If you can't find the art within you, it's probably because you're too busy cheating, lying, stealing, and frankly, being too lazy to get off your well-padded ass to find out who you really are and what--if anything--you have to offer the world.
That's true greatness, by the way. Using whatever gifts you have to help others. Not because you get something for it, like artificial fame. But because...you can. With a single thought, you can begin to #RepairTheWorld. You just have to want to. That means wanting it enough to put in the time, energy, and effort it takes to MAKE IT HAPPEN. You can't give up before you've even gotten started. I'll usually put a human spin on it, tell you it's somehow okay to feel that way, except, it isn't. When you give up, when you don't believe, you are actually hurting the people who do. You're creating obstacles, not helping to clear the path. Do you know what that tells me???
You're weak. Afraid. Made sick by the social cage you were kept in your whole life. I am sick, too. Of listening to your whining. You've never had to fight to breathe--yet you think you have. The tiniest offense offends your fragile sensibilities. Because, of course, you are nobody and nothing and have not a single inkling of greatness inside any fiber of your pathetic being. But what? Your mommy tells you you're great? Your best friend? Your spouse? Your siblings??? Wipe the drool from your bubbling lips. You disgust me. "You" being any adult who so completely lacks self awareness, you must be shamed into seeing your own reflection in the mirror.
YOU are the ONLY one who can cultivate you. I am great, not because of a single other human being. I am great because I have done things no one else has. That stands, whether anyone ever acknowledges it as truth or not. I have beaten the odds over and over and over ad nauseum, ad infinitum.
Don't know Latin??? Why the fuck not? You can read, can't you? Open a book. Or, if you're too lazy to do that, Google it.
Positive energy isn't something I can really give to you. It's something you're born with. I can help a positive person out of a slump. I can give a positive person affirmations to keep them uplifted. But if you are innately negative, no one but you can help you. You have to see yourself for who you are. Understand you are nothing. Recognize that you have no matter. Only then, can you sense who you really are. And only then will you be able to find your true greatness.
#Scorn
#TwinFlames #1111 Post-script: This piece is dedicated to two of America's greatest writers, Lillian Hellman and Dorothy Parker. Both women were unafraid to speak their mind. Neither stayed silent in the face of injustice. And, each followed her heart, no matter how dangerous the road....
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