The Ungifted

The notion that we can become anything we want is a falsehood told to children to make the multitude of possibilities in life seem attainable. As innocuous as it may seem, we know this isn’t true and it is an idea that reality will demolish. Not everyone will have the financial support or the talent/skill to pursue their desired profession. Some persons are born with special gifts that seem to carve a destined legacy, but what if you are one of the ungifted?

I often envy people with extraordinary abilities; like why couldn’t I have been born with an insane IQ or be the fastest man on earth, or the best singer on the planet. Ultimately, such thoughts are futile and won’t change the fact that you cannot determine what life gives you. The harsh reality is that everyone cannot live a glamorous, glorified and celebrated life. Many do not possess exceptional talent or intellect.

However, it doesn’t mean that your story isn’t worthwhile or interesting. Think of each persons’ life as a form of art, we may start with the same canvas but we all are given different backgrounds, colours, hues, and shades to paint with. Nobody’s life is identical. Your story is unique; the combination of thoughts and experiences are not the same as anyone else’s. This article, for example, has never been written before.

I consider myself one of the ungifted, that is, I do not possess magnetic charisma, nor can I split atoms with brain power, nor am I a genetic freak, but does it matter? What should matter is how you choose to live your life and what legacy you want to leave behind. Yes, others may have a bigger platform and have a story that will permeate throughout history but you also have a story, why not tell it?

Maddening Descent

 Losing the will to go on
What emptiness inside
I see others basking in glee
But I can't figure out why
Am I so broken inside?
That I am either not able to see
What life truly has to offer
Or do I just inherently reject this offer
Life, this universal movie
I just never seem to get
Maybe I have the wrong ticket
Or is this just the preview
Completion is something I never feel
This hollowing, yearning for something more
I don't see the point in continuing
Yet tomorrow life courses through my veins
There is will and passion,
But only for a half day
The next is stoic
Is this not madness?
Vacillating between joy and despair
Uncertain of which memories are true
One instance filled with vibrantly dancing colours
The next a slab of dull stationary ones
Not sure if these dreams are worth attaining
For this emptiness consumes all
It is a deep insatiable feeling
One that never leaves
It only masks itself and gradually eats away
Eroding your mind and sanity.