nothing in a world of everything

I’m not much of a writer, I wouldn’t say I am. I leave the art of writing for those who sip cocktails in big cities using proper grammar and distinguished linguistics to immediate their feelings through words I just couldn’t. I’m a blurter, I tend to say exactly how I feel when I feel it without a thought, usually not working to my benefit. I tend to believe I am one who suffers impostor syndrome worse than anyone else. I have to suffer, without suffering I am not interesting. I need you to see my pain whilst I convince myself I no longer have any. Pain is a subject of the past. I’m just currently in the state of being permanently numb. Numbness is attractive, therefore you can consecutively hurt me and I will give you no reaction because I cannot feel the vulnerability in my skin when you hit me, but the truth is. It will always ache, it’ll hurt, it’ll burn. My skin will boil with the fuel of my veins that will set off on a ping of anger the second I feel allowed to enrage myself until breakdown. I’m an angry person, but I smile and I frown and hidden behind me there is this constant vexation waiting to surface and when it does, I feel alive. I don’t struggle with what the world struggles with. It’s not that  I can’t choose a career because I’m not good at anything, rather the opposite. I am good at everything. Just not good enough. I am not good enough to be a writer, a singer, a filmmaker, a painter, or a fashion designer. But in a world where the untalented rise to fame, the talented don't belong, especially not the half talented. I am in no search of fame but specifically passion which has been lost in years of parasocial evolution and obsession. Admiration no longer requires skill and individuality but rather relatability and achievability. I don't want you to look up to me because I have made you laugh or because I put my makeup on the same way as you do. I need to be seen in a light that switches the second my art speaks to you(if it does, when it does). You may think of me as cocky, arrogant, bratty and ungrateful, but at the end of the day. I am just an impostor.