I’ve been thinking individuality is really overrated. At least, I’ve wasted a lot of time and effort on it, not even including high school. After graduating from college, I concentrated a lot of mental and emotional energy on not conforming, not being boring, and not fitting the mold I imagined was waiting for me. I mean, I didn’t do anything to prevent it -- I just worried about it.

I never did anything to prevent it, unless you count being a drunk. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that wanting to be different drove me to drink, but I definitely used it as an excuse to continue. Many mornings on my way to work, feeling like ass, I placated myself by thinking, “I bet nobody else on this train was [insert skanky drunken episode here] at 4:00 a.m. this morning.” I looked upon my heavy drinking and late nights as an achievement in single-mindedness and determination that set me apart from others. I was really living life to its fullest while those well-rested and cheery people around me were only skating on the surface.

The big problem with the cult of individuality is that it’s based on the idea that most people are living their lives badly. What a pointless and unhappy belief that is. It’s kind of rude, too. I’m not saying people should accept things they normally wouldn’t for the sake of conforming -- just that it’s a waste of time and a sketchy enterprise to force yourself to be eccentric.

I should disclose that these thoughts on individuality are coming on the heels of a series of realizations about my own average-ness. Average-ness is like a lame-ass bar. You don’t want to bother dressing up because nobody cool will be there. Then you realize, hell, I’ll be there, and I’m cool, so who’s to say who else might show up?

prev // next