The reality of it is that I never seem to really do a fuck thing with any of those thoughts and feelings.
The reality of it is that I never really feel like I'm doing a fuck thing worthwhile with my life -- just eating & sleeping & playing games & occasionally earning money.
It occurs to me that this is the nonaddictive, nondestructive version of smoking crack and rolling a Seven-Eleven every now and then, just to get some money to buy some more crack to smoke. I'm a dope fiend light, I suppose.
Part of the reason I do this: I can do everything most excellently -- in my head. In my head I can be a top designer, a wonderful artist. I can feel it, I can know it. Since it's just in my own head, I never need to prove it to anyone.
When I set pencil to paper, though, cursor to screen, fingers to keyboard, whatever: That's when the disconnect starts. The things that I create never live up to the visions in my head. I get discouraged, and I am not motivated to continue. The stick holding the hypothetical carrot is too long. It appears to be sufficiently far away as to be unreachable.
I suppose I am useful, though, in some way. I'm useful to my wife, to my daughter. I wonder, though: Maybe it's our whole 'celebrity culture' that leads me to look at things this way. It's this whole idea (and ideal) we have of looking up to famous people, pop stars, pro bloggers, noisy rich heiresses. What's interesting about the average joe, after all? Maybe that's why I never do anything, never really try to do anything with the thoughts in my head. In my own head I can be as much of a celebrity as I want to be.
This is disturbing, but I think I'm on to something here. What kind of experience do you have with this sort of thing?