Verbigeration

I have to compete, right? There's an entire ocean out there of eager word-smiths dying to have others listen to their gill movements.

Okay okay, enough's enough. I'm just being cynical yet again. One can't help thinking about how insignificant they are when there's an exponentially, overwhelming amount of voices out there. Actually, this has always been the case, but now the internet makes us a bit too aware of it. Twitter is filled to the brim with everyone's snark, everyone's promotions, everyone's agendas. We fool each other into thinking that the majority of people may one day give a shit.

The fear comes from the illusion, the dream we were taught as children that one day we all have the possibility of being culturally significant. If we try hard enough, it's actually inevitable! I envy those who don't have this mindset embedded into their consciousness; it's one of my many flaws. (No...I'm not talking about the 'envy' part...though that's also one of them) The joys I've known in life seem to have stemmed from entertaining others and the feeling of being 'important.' Yes, I know, we're all important. We're all unique snowflakes. I get it. That's not what I'm talking about.

I'm an only child...with siblings. "What does that even mean?" you ask me.

...or you don't...but I'm sure you at least THINK about asking the question.

My youngest sibling is 14 years older than me. Our relationship is a bit different; she's always been a second mother to me. Since the other 2 siblings lived very far away, and were MUCH older than me, I wasn't very close to them growing up. For the most part I had my parents undivided attention, as well as my sister's. They'd take me places, buy me things, and generally showed appreciation for everything/anything I did. I learned very early on to be creative, because it was a fun job that paid well! Praise and compliments! At the time, I didn't realize that I could simply just deposit those into a bank account and retire at the age of 18 as a self-made millionaire of self-worth, so foolishly I spent every polite smile, every pat on the back, every "Good Job" I could get.

I was living the high life! Although I was very dependent on it, I had no idea that one day my fortune would be gone. I'm not sure of the exact date, but at some point during my middle school years I became emotionally bankrupt. The environment I had been put in consisted almost exclusively of emotional criminals, thieves that stole my positive energy on a daily basis. Needless to say, the bank foreclosed on my home and I was thrown out to the streets. Homeless. Eating fish bone compliments straight from metal garbage cans. Always begging for scraps. Many nights it would rain cold drops down on me as I attempted to sleep on a park bench, clenching tightly to the one soaked newspaper that wasn't completely torn to shreds. On the dry side next to my face, my eyes were fixed on my horoscope each night, waiting anxiously for the one that would read, "Today, people will change their mind about you. So long have they had the wrong idea, but now they'll see the error of their ways. Look forward to moving into that mansion next week. Also, your lucky lotto numbers are 3, 4, 15, 29 and 42."

I ended up just gathering and selling aluminum cans, enough to eventually buy myself a tent so I could live in the woods next to the highway. You'd be surprised how many people just throw their beer bottles out there! Cha-Ching!