Sometimes I wish I could just be normal, but I can't and I never could. I tried it once when I was 13, and I sucked at it. My peers could see right through it, even though I dressed and tried to act normal so I could fit in, I was still an outcast. It's like I emanate this aura of weirdness that people instinctively pick up on. I'm ok with not fitting in, and being a weirdo. It's fine because I've been practicing the art of giving zero fucks for years now. Ironically the fewer fucks I give about people liking me, the more people like me.
When I say that I wish I could be normal, I mean that I wish I could just be content living a life of mediocrity and conforming to the status quo. I feel like if I could just be normal then my marriage wouldn't have collapsed and I would have closer relationships with my other immediate family members. A life less ordinary has left it's scars, but then again no one gets out of this life unscathed.
It's weird, because I've done all that normal shit you're supposed to do without the intent of ever doing it. I've been married, reproduced and I own a home. I don't know why those are the things that as North Americans we strive to achieve. I'm certainly not content to just be a homeowner, wife and mom. I kinda wish I was, because I feel like life would be less complicated. I ask myself all the time, "Are all of those happy wives and moms on Facebook actually as happy as they claim to be? Is having a husband and children really that completely fulfilling for them? Are their kids really their world? Why is it that other women can be perfectly content with doing the wife-mom thing, but for me it's not enough?" The answer is...
I cannot exist without creating. I thought about this the other day as I was walking along the pier, at night, in the rain, by myself...having a conversation with an imaginary version of a friend. I don't mean an imaginary friend, but I mean a person that I know in my real life that I imagine to be there with me in that moment. Weird? Who knows, and really I don't care because it's how I figure shit out.
I asked the imaginary version of my friend, "If I were stranded on an island where I could survive, how would I occupy my time?"
He responded, "I don't think you'd spend your time making a home for yourself. You'd probably find a cave to live in, and that'd be good enough for you. I could see you making up a story, but not just writing it down. I could see you building entire sets with characters in them like a 3D comic book."
I was like, "Yeah! That's totally what I'd do! It mirrors what I do right now anyway. I don't spend my time at fucking Bed, Bath & Beyond shopping for housewares with my significant other on the weekend. I'm not a homemaker. I'm a world creator, perhaps at the expense of letting my domestic life crumble, but I can't help it. Even if I were in a situation where all of my material comforts were stripped away, I'd still be compelled to create."
So here I am. My domestic world in ruins and still creating. Normal? No. A life worth living? Hell yeah! My song Serial Killer from my new EP 'Blood Sweat Tears' is about living in an unorthodox domestic situation with an ex-partner. It's like a post-apocalyptic relationship where you're struggling to survive, and salvaging what's left.
I cannot exist without creating. I thought about this the other day as I was walking along the pier, at night, in the rain, by myself...having a conversation with an imaginary version of a friend. I don't mean an imaginary friend, but I mean a person that I know in my real life that I imagine to be there with me in that moment. Weird? Who knows, and really I don't care because it's how I figure shit out.
I asked the imaginary version of my friend, "If I were stranded on an island where I could survive, how would I occupy my time?"
He responded, "I don't think you'd spend your time making a home for yourself. You'd probably find a cave to live in, and that'd be good enough for you. I could see you making up a story, but not just writing it down. I could see you building entire sets with characters in them like a 3D comic book."
I was like, "Yeah! That's totally what I'd do! It mirrors what I do right now anyway. I don't spend my time at fucking Bed, Bath & Beyond shopping for housewares with my significant other on the weekend. I'm not a homemaker. I'm a world creator, perhaps at the expense of letting my domestic life crumble, but I can't help it. Even if I were in a situation where all of my material comforts were stripped away, I'd still be compelled to create."
So here I am. My domestic world in ruins and still creating. Normal? No. A life worth living? Hell yeah! My song Serial Killer from my new EP 'Blood Sweat Tears' is about living in an unorthodox domestic situation with an ex-partner. It's like a post-apocalyptic relationship where you're struggling to survive, and salvaging what's left.
Serial Killer is available as a FREE DOWNLOAD on my website
So what is normal? I mean, there's the status quo societal norms that we're all under some kind of pressure to conform to, but none us are really normal. Maybe we lead so-called normal lives on the outside, but on the inside is this whole different plane of existence. What I've learned about being normal is that your inside world is YOUR normal. Embrace it. The truer we are to living in our outside world as the person we truly are on the inside, the more content and fulfilled our every day life will feel, even if it's a big mess for the time being like mine is right now.