If you were wondering, this is what worth means, I guess...
The quality that renders something desirable, useful, or valuable.
Material or market value.
For some reason my brain puts an = between the two.
Desirable, useful, valuable = market value. That's probably a consequence of capitalism. Maybe it's the other way around. I'm not sure. If I had time to research that I probably would. But I don't have enough money to use my time for that kind of pursuit.
Cyclical, ain't it?
I've become quite jealous of those who have exposure. That's probably a downstream effect of participating in popularity. Maybe it's the other way around. I'm not sure.
I'm really working at reducing cynicism in my life. We don't really know where our structures are rooted.
So I sat last night wondering about these things. I was trying to remember why I write. Then I wrote a bunch of stuff in a notebook that will be burned or buried or annihilated in some epic fashion. Probably not, I'll probably tuck it away with all of my other worthless hoarded self-remnants. In any case, I wasn't writing it so others could agree, or see, or anything. I don't think I was writing it for myself either. I just felt like it. And I was "supposed" to be writing pages for a novel, but I was all sad and self destructive, so... no thanks.
I also read some of my previous posts, and I liked them. I didn't go: THIS, THIS IS GOOD; like I sometimes do when I'm finishing a thing and then the thought comes that: THIS, THIS IS IT, SOMEONE IS GONNA NOTICE THIS. IT’S HAPPENING! It wasn't like that. It was more like: wow, this is dark and honest; and real. And I like whatever is happening here, even though I don't fully understand it.
I thought: I... I think I actually like... me? (For me, this is a big deal. The biggest deal maybe.)
And I do care if people (hopefully the right ones, dunno who they are) notice and respond to what I put out into the universe. Probably because that's what I'm aiming at when I throw something outward. I'm trying to share, and I'm trying to be the best I can be for that pursuit.
A recurrent theme in my pondering is: maybe I'm not actually good at this. Ya, that sounds sad, but it was more like: hmmm, what am I doing bad? How can I do better? Maybe people who are successful at it are better at it. Maybe they don't have to try as hard and pick out the perfect words and have these thrice embedded themes and meanings and connections for a whole crop of followers to say: yeah! what she said! Cause they are getting the result they want, right? And then I thought: how many people aren't getting the result, but they are actually good at this? Do they know how amazing they are? Would I even know they exist? Cause we are all force fed a fire-hose of the same figures, the popular ones. But they are popular for a reason, a lot of people like them. So why don't I? If I did I could probably learn from them. And which one of these figures am I anyways? Would I even know which one I am if I thought I fit in one of the imaginary categories?
It doesn't feel like envy. I don't really want a bunch of people to look at my thoughts and approve. I really don't care what other people think about my thoughts. In fact, I kinda like it better when people disagree with me. Then we have something actually interesting to talk about. Not like the, "wow, that's really interesting," which in other words means, "I don't care, but I don't want you to feel all butthurt and lash out cause I really don't care enough to manage that situation." I like mesmerizing interactions, and I guess by extension, I have been working to make my words mesmerizing. That's one of those qualities we really don't understand.
So I guess when I see people with a bunch of little hearts or talky bubbles or a little check mark by their name I assume they have that quality.
It feels bitter, like jealousy. It feels like I want some result that I decided those people have. Do they have it? They don't even know. What am I so bitter about?
I found this video, it's not very popular, but it had an intriguing title. And before you get all hot an bothered by the speaker, or the God context, give it a shot. With the right attitude it's actually funny.
The Resentful Attitude of a Bitter Intellectual | Jordan Peterson
If you want the full lecture, it's really long, and very Bible-y. A lot of people watched this one. I don’t know why. It's here.
If you didn't want to watch he basically says that people with talent (luck) feel owed something (usually recognition or success), because that's what it seems like is happening to others. This is particularly evident in the unfulfilled intellectual.
I don't see myself as an intellectual, although people have been telling me my whole life (and still do) that I'm smart. Maybe they're expressing envy. I don't know. Maybe it's a compliment. I'm not good at receiving those. Whatever their aim, for some reason it's bothersome. Maybe I’m bitter because all intelligence has done is torture me.
Omg… waaawhh… you’re so… smar—
Er, I mean… owww… does that hurt?
If I wasn’t scared of losing it, I’d likely wish it away. Many of my actions have diminished my intelligence, intentionally, so I could enjoy this life thing a little more.
Intelligence, despite our current societal manifestations, is not the ultimate attribute. If I were to choose the ultimate attribute, I'm not certain I could choose one, or two, or five. You kinda need a bunch of 'em, a bunch of 'em that work well with one another. Is cooperation the ultimate attribute?
I often feel like not giving a f*ck is the ultimate attribute.
So do I feel owed something? Maybe. Maybe we all do. Entitlement is a sneaky b*tch. Being owed is kinda like assigning a narrow view of fairness, as if we are swinging the gavel of cosmic justice. Theoretically of course, most of us don't carry out our dystopian agendas.
Well, if either, or both are true it doesn't much matter, does it? It sure sounds like I'm human. There are more rewarding things than our aims.
I often like to make my own little definitions with their own little connotations. In many ways it feels like a talent of mine. One that I didn't choose, but work tirefully to put to use. I try not to give a f*ck when people don't agree with them. Sometimes I do some convincing. But the definitions are for me, and by extension make life a little less difficult for those around me, even when it feels like I'm making things more complicated.
So I decided that I'm good writing while worthless.
What do these words mean?
Good - Better off, undisturbed, unconcerned. Thriving.
Worthless - Having or exhibiting an immeasurable quality or qualities. Sometimes unnoticed or immaterial. Shadowy. Misunderstood.
In other words: you don't have to be worthy.
Be you.
I’ll be here, being wordy.
So much of this resonated with me. Especially your fear of being unworthy and your desire for recognition. The struggle is real...
I often wonder if the main difference between artists that "make it" and those that don't can be boiled down to how each group handles the immense emotional/spiritual burden of having expectations for oneself and one's work. Because I think you're right: we all feel that we're "owed" something (whether we'll willing to admit that or not)--and, I mean, how could we not? From our own perspective, we are quite literally the centre of the universe. So it's only natural to privilege ourselves in that manner. Being able to "handle" all of that, to me, matters far more than something ephemeral like "talent." It's all about what we do and how we react to feeling that way--for example, being dejected vs being motivated.
Speaking of which, for what's it's worth, I think you have a phenomenal and compelling voice, a quality that can't be taught but is nevertheless a prerequisite for success. I love your wit and satirical bite. The honesty is wonderful, as well. (I don't care if it's a bit self serving to say because I do work in a similar vein, but: we need independent, fearless writing like yours--please keep going!)
Like you, I often harbour the secret hope that THIS WILL BE THE PIECE THAT WILL FINALLY *FILL IN THE BLANK WITH ONE'S PREFERRED DESIRE*--which is often a terrible burden to carry. It can add a weightiness to writing that should otherwise be as free and easy as possible. Maybe it's just me, but I think that what many of us still trying to "make it" truly crave is a bit of safety and stability. Making decent art is difficult enough without having to worry about keeping the fridge stocked and the lights on. The check marks, likes, and popularity, then, aren't objects of jealousy because we literally crave the wealth, accolades, and recognition of another person--but rather, we desire those things merely because they signify an individual's ability to pursue their art far more "freely." And I think all of us trying to live an examined, creative life crave a sense of freedom. (Although we would be wise to acknowledge that no amount of external "success" will ever free us from our internal demons--but that's a whole 'nother can o worms.)
Anyway, truly a pleasure to have stumbled upon your work, Lee--keep it up!