This is directed at those in the creative fields. Has anyone ever seen something so amazing, that you've felt like nothing you could ever do in your entire life could ever compare? It's not the first time I've felt this way, but it is one of the worst occurrences.
A bunch of you may laugh at this. Some of you may laugh heavily, but the first time I felt this way was when I heard about Homestuck. For some reason the very idea of it all scared me on this base, existential level. For so long, I've wanted to be a fantasy author who creates worlds, inspires imagination, discussion and all. One day a few years ago, I just hear about this sprawling webcomic that has a deep story, lots of complexity, and is written, illustrated, and even animated by a single person, loved by so many. I felt all this shame well up that I was so useless by comparison. Who would possibly care about my garbage? And on the internet especially when the prevailing attitude seems to be "TL;DR". I've hated myself for a long time because I can't draw. Yes, I've attempted it, but such attempts never last long, as I'm so quickly filled with despair and self-loathing, that it's too much to bear. The guy seems so young too. I can't even think about it without my head getting filled with insecurities. Yes, I know it's destructive to compare myself to others - especially creative works which are so difficult to objectively compare, but I can't stop the thoughts from coming. A lot of the time, they're not even thoughts but waves of feelings throughout my body making me feel like I'm sick to my stomach or making me light-headed. It's delusional; I know. The webcomic known most for exploitable memes and silly pop culture references, I know I know I know... But I want what he has. I want people to care about what I do, and I want that kind of body of work. I want to feel like I mean something, and that my ideas aren't just bargain bin knock-offs which no one will ever care about. Of course my worries are delusional, and I've even made progress in fighting them, but I got another critical hit to my self-esteem today.
I'm sure you've all heard of "Undertale" and how amazing it is. I feel like all my delusions about Homestuck have been made manifest, given Undertale is sitting at #1 on PC Games for Metacritic. Go figure that it was created by Toby Fox who also does music for Homestuck. I feel sometimes as if the universe engineers these sick little coincidences just to torture me. Why do I care so much? Why does thinking about this game fill me with dread? I watch videos of the game, and I think to myself that I could never write that well, and my ideas could never be as interesting. I feel like absolute filth - a pretentious worm. How many prospective writers think that their works are great? 100%? How do I know I'm not as delusional about the quality of my writing? That every positive, healthy thought I've ever had concerning my alleged "talent" isn't a complete lie and me bragging to myself? I can't bring myself to work on my own stories most of the time too because it all seems pointless. Now, why bother at all? I'll never be as loved as Andrew Hussie, and my ideas will never become a game, much less a #1 on Metacritic game. I can't code. I can't draw. All I can do is think stupid, little thoughts.
You'd think with such elegiac resignation that I'd be fine with just giving up, deleting everything on my Google Drive, deviantART, forums I've posted things to, etc. but I can't do it. There's still this stupid hope inside me, making me believe that one day I'll metamorphose into someone efficacious who will finish stories and books and whom people will enjoy reading and discussing. Being a writer feels like my destiny, like the only reason I have for justifying my existence. Without that, why not just kill myself now?
It's a difficult, convoluted dialogue which is swirling around in my head right now. Sorry for the pollution.
A bunch of you may laugh at this. Some of you may laugh heavily, but the first time I felt this way was when I heard about Homestuck. For some reason the very idea of it all scared me on this base, existential level. For so long, I've wanted to be a fantasy author who creates worlds, inspires imagination, discussion and all. One day a few years ago, I just hear about this sprawling webcomic that has a deep story, lots of complexity, and is written, illustrated, and even animated by a single person, loved by so many. I felt all this shame well up that I was so useless by comparison. Who would possibly care about my garbage? And on the internet especially when the prevailing attitude seems to be "TL;DR". I've hated myself for a long time because I can't draw. Yes, I've attempted it, but such attempts never last long, as I'm so quickly filled with despair and self-loathing, that it's too much to bear. The guy seems so young too. I can't even think about it without my head getting filled with insecurities. Yes, I know it's destructive to compare myself to others - especially creative works which are so difficult to objectively compare, but I can't stop the thoughts from coming. A lot of the time, they're not even thoughts but waves of feelings throughout my body making me feel like I'm sick to my stomach or making me light-headed. It's delusional; I know. The webcomic known most for exploitable memes and silly pop culture references, I know I know I know... But I want what he has. I want people to care about what I do, and I want that kind of body of work. I want to feel like I mean something, and that my ideas aren't just bargain bin knock-offs which no one will ever care about. Of course my worries are delusional, and I've even made progress in fighting them, but I got another critical hit to my self-esteem today.
I'm sure you've all heard of "Undertale" and how amazing it is. I feel like all my delusions about Homestuck have been made manifest, given Undertale is sitting at #1 on PC Games for Metacritic. Go figure that it was created by Toby Fox who also does music for Homestuck. I feel sometimes as if the universe engineers these sick little coincidences just to torture me. Why do I care so much? Why does thinking about this game fill me with dread? I watch videos of the game, and I think to myself that I could never write that well, and my ideas could never be as interesting. I feel like absolute filth - a pretentious worm. How many prospective writers think that their works are great? 100%? How do I know I'm not as delusional about the quality of my writing? That every positive, healthy thought I've ever had concerning my alleged "talent" isn't a complete lie and me bragging to myself? I can't bring myself to work on my own stories most of the time too because it all seems pointless. Now, why bother at all? I'll never be as loved as Andrew Hussie, and my ideas will never become a game, much less a #1 on Metacritic game. I can't code. I can't draw. All I can do is think stupid, little thoughts.
You'd think with such elegiac resignation that I'd be fine with just giving up, deleting everything on my Google Drive, deviantART, forums I've posted things to, etc. but I can't do it. There's still this stupid hope inside me, making me believe that one day I'll metamorphose into someone efficacious who will finish stories and books and whom people will enjoy reading and discussing. Being a writer feels like my destiny, like the only reason I have for justifying my existence. Without that, why not just kill myself now?
It's a difficult, convoluted dialogue which is swirling around in my head right now. Sorry for the pollution.