I feel pretty stupid
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I don’t know if people are right about “id, ego and superego” but I feel pretty stupid.
I don’t like reading my things, I don’t like when people read my things, I especially don’t like when people read my things near me; out-loud.
Everybody makes mistakes, sometimes we feel like those mistakes were obvious, so we should feel stupid. When I think about past mistakes, on top of feeling stupid, I freeze. Not in the sense of “a freezing chill passed through the protagonist to show the audience how obviously sad and desperate he felt after seeing his friend die.”. But I stop moving, completely. The omnipresent pain in my head amplifies; I feel, stupid. I cannot be stupid, I want to be smart, I never admit my shortcomings, sure I’ll admit it to other people, but deep down? Deep down I know I’m the most sensible and wise of people. I am the best! At something, right? I cannot be normal, I need to be, special. I am special.
After I listen to a podcast, watch a talk show, or consume any media with famous people in it; I put myself in it. My Oscar speech is ready. I know what to talk with creators I like, what to ask about them, what to say, I know all the jokes I can make to feel like I accomplished something. I have it deep inside my soul: the feeling, the desire, the need, the absolute necessity of being special. I know it now, I am a liar. I never lied to another soul, but I have lied to the most precious of souls, my own. I hate that liar for what he’s done. Lying to me for years upon years, just to avoid facing reality. I have my revenge now. Now he can get away from the keyboard, crawl into bed, put his hands behind his head, and desperately try to sleep.
