One of the forces that keeps me down is the fear of underperformance. Now ladies and gentleman, it is not failure. Failure, I can accept, I have taken it many times. If it fails outright, there is a reason for it. It might be technical. It might be an ineffective method. But underperformance? That thing messes with my head.
Underperformance is hard to accept. However, attempting to be the honest-to-self person I try to be, even the knowledge that I underperform is hard to swallow. It is the realization of knowing that even with my efforts, dedication and dreams at their peaks, I am still risk being forced to come into terms that they only bring a half-assed result. It feels like I am lacking a certain quality, which eludes me.
There are two ways that I have used to deal with this. The first would be apathy. If one does not perform, one does not underperform. Short and sweet and mind-numbing.
The second one would be to purposely under-invest myself to the cause that I aspire. With that, I am able to approach the challenges I face knowing that if I am not up to par, I can assure myself that I did not give it my all and if I do succeed, it is an even better ego-booster to know that I brought maximum results with minimum method.
At last, I must admit to myself that these two are merely mechanisms in my head which have long kept me dormant in terms of many things. They have replaced much of the time I could have "wasted" on trial and errors to express my creativity with periods of indulging in all sorts of highly acclaimed media and other worldly pleasures. I am left with the feeling that they have fed a hunger by only satisfying the taste buds.
Now, I take a blade in my mind to tear out these conditioned responses. I pray to myself that I keep the momentum going for what I am about to do, for my spiritual sanity seeks it. Of course, I will be fine if I do not persist. It probably means that I have been encumbered by the mundane, a disease quite acceptable these days.
I had always fancied myself as a writer and an artist, and now I present myself to you, who shall perhaps in turn, fancy my works, or scorn it, or not give a rat’s ass about one of the few million voices in this globalized world. Have a pleasant day.
