Somewhere in the course of my measly 20-something years on the 3rd rock from the sun,i realised something.I mean,we all have those days-when epiphany dawns,the cookie crumbles and the penny drops.And it was this:
I'm not all that great,am i?
I dont mean this in a self-deprecating manner of speaking.I can be a bit off,but I have my people despite being something of an aquired taste.
Au contraire,when I say great,I meant GREAT.
I'm never going to own a Fortune 500 company(heck,in our turbulent times,(still) owning any company makes you big shit).Its probably too late for me to cure cancer,seeing how i picked the wrong speciality of medicine.I'm never going to write that novel about a boy wizard that will make publishing history.Or have George Clooney pursue me relentlessly till I give him my hand in marriage(no pre-nup,mind you).That Nobel for pioneering research in stem cell therapy shall,in all probablities,go to some Korean dude & his jing-bang of lab rats.Prada shall never have that fall/winter collection designed with me as the muse.
So,where does that leave me in the larger scheme of things?Times like this,when you want to kiss the guy who came up with the-"big things come in small packages" line.
Most of us,go on to lead ordinary lives,i presume.Study,fall in love,work,marry,work,have kids,work,exercise(the 40's can be terrible on the midsection),work and hopefully unclench,one day.All this,while little pinpricks of what-could-have-been make it a nasty habit to surface when you least expect it & when you're the least equipped to deal with it.An all-pervading sinking sense of anti-climax swims around in your sub-conscious.If you're lucky,it was probably a job that didnt make you hate yourself for not quitting because the pay was too good.And the gods have been particulary kind to you if you get to swap rings with someone who actually gives a crap about you.
Mediocre,you said?
But what if being GREAT is not as great(i suck at puns) as its cut out to be.Wouldnt it be like spreading yourself too thin?I mean,Prada and me never really saw eye-to-eye on pret;I'm sure Korean dude doesnt get time to hang with his best chums and watch LOST;and how in hell would i explain to Hugh Grant why Clooney lucked out with me?Conundrum,indeed.
Maybe ordinary is good.Maybe amongst all the same-ness,you get to figure what really matters,and hang onto it for dear life.Whatever makes you tick,man.Once I worked all that disillusionment out of my system,and stopped getting such a kick out of walking around like this jaded cynic(they dont call me drama queen for nothing.though this jaded cynic routine is kinda addictive);I figured that if someone asked me to make a pick between Fame & Fortune,I'd probably pick Happiness.I mean,its the least you owe yourself.
Jane Doe signing off...
