How beautiful and comforting it is that somewhere deep within yourself, unbeknownst to your peers and the whole world in general, lies the most kind, charismatic, intelligent and determined human being that has even set foot upon this scorched Earth. It is not your fault you haven’t quite yet got the chance to discover your true capabilities, to surprise yourself with resources you couldn’t even dream of having. The suffering through which your going, the struggles that you like so much to romanticize about and all your self-contradicting actions just add a bit of drama to the narrative that is your life. You’re special. Of course, everyone is, but you’re just a tiny bit more than the rest.
Enough with this disgusting bullshit. Stop feeding your children, your friends, your relatives or yourself mental poison as if insecurities are meant to be silenced, not confronted. Understand for once that this solipsistic view is nothing more but the media you consume spewing out of your pattern seeking and imitating mind. No universe has “conspired” for your birth, you are the product of two people exchanging spit and other bodily fluids. Inside your mother’s womb your face used to look like this. You went through all the stages of your species evolution until some nine months later you came out screaming through the channel that your father (supposedly) liked to habitually stick his dick into. Presuming that you didn’t draw the short straw and came out with all of your chromosomes and most of your genes intact, you still took years to be able to walk, talk and judge the world around you, making sense of it through patterns and speculations. You devoured gigabytes of information through the dozen or so intermediaries that your nervous system had at his disposal and yet only fragments of it still remain stored in a few kilograms of fat and protein.
And here you are now, spewing great idioms and judgments left and right, blessing the world around you with your magnificence and wit as if we’re supposed to disregard the few hundred grams of literal shit you produce everyday, the absurd amounts of water you waste jerking off to your average-year-round-salary-of-some-Indian-dude dollar phone, the nights you cry yourself to sleep and the cringe-full little “works-in-progress” you keep dropping over and over again.
Think you’re destined for greatness? Out of 107 billion people that have ever pissed upon this world, about a few hundred thousand ever got their own Wikipedia page. Even if by some stroke of luck you somehow manage to carve your name in history and produce something of value, can you not see that wouldn’t be your own, but a collage of all the works of other people, adapted in such a manner that it fits the context you happen to be in?
Stop worshiping your body. Fascinating as it may be, it’s just a wasteful self-sustaining machine whose purpose is homeostasis. 10^11 neurons each having 1000 connections, and yet most of them are busy just making sure you don’t forget to breathe, digest, excrete and pump blood. This neocortex you like mentioning so much is only a few million years old and hasn’t quite grasped this new thing called culture. You keep calling yourself intelligent yet have no true measurement or standard to compare with. You blunder, you fail, you get your decisions influenced by fluctuating amounts of neurotransmitters, your judgments skewed by biases, your thoughts muddied by a wide array of self administered substances. You’re pathetic.
And that is fine. You’re only an intermediary. True intelligence has yet to arise and most likely you won’t be a part of its birth. You’re an anxious human fighting the existential dread though his own means, like the rest of us. Make art, write code, work out, study something fascinating or hedonistically abuse the spectrum of emotions and perceptions that we’re able to have. Do whatever the fuck floats your boat, just stop blabbering corporate bullshit about undiscovered potential and diamonds in the coal.