In the past, I have written about the unique scents and signatures of the office workplace. I have documented the various smells, revealing their origins, their potency, and their effect on my senses. I have exploited my second home, sacrificing it, and likewise myself, to public scrutiny, all for the sake of literary content - cheap thrills, easy entertainment, shits and giggles...
But there is a new brew, so to speak, permeating my nostrils - saturating my soul - invading the inner sanctum of my being, that calls for a more serious tone - a reconciliation - a revelation.
The aroma of mediocrity.Much like a pheromone, we have grown accustomed to this smell in our lives. It's bouquet is something like aging skin and hopelessness. We live with it. We sleep in it. We eat, shit and fuck in it. It rarely leaves us, and we in turn, rarely think to wash it away.
It's in our DNA.
My office is dripping with this scent. And not just my office, but my world in general. My friends, my family, my school, my interactions, my thoughts, my dreams - everything; drenched in passive tolerance, soaking wet with second-best.
The fragrance of humdrum "averageness" plasters my face - bombarding my senses - causing my eyes to sting, quiver, and close. I have to take a deep breath to prevent tears from forming. Reality sets in, mocking me...while at the same time challenging me to prove otherwise.
...the smell of rotting flesh, indifference, meek acceptance of circumstance, surrender, death...
The shit smell of hope-deferred has become a familiar perfume, leaving no room for strange devices or deviations from the current smell of our inert condition . We have dug a pit, shat in it, and rolled around in the waste of time and energy that is our life.
The aroma of mediocrity is beginning to make me nauseous...and perhaps this is what it had to come down to: Me bent down and over, wrenching up my guts, sick to my stomach of my own laziness, my own hypocrisy, my own pot-calling-the-kettle-black convictions...
Maybe this is what it takes for everyone to recognize the spoiled, putrid smell of their own slow demise. It requires that we become so disgusted with the status quo, that we purge our souls of hopelessness, cramming our fingers, our fists, down our own throats, bringing the bile up, summoning the poison deep within, exhaling the sin of distorted energies and half-ass attempts for happiness.
A glutton sits in his or her own filth, feeding on selfish ambition, thinking they are being fulfilled and nourished by microwave successes and fast-food accomplishments. They decompose in their own rot - their own lazy stink - never stopping to think that the stench they have grown to embrace is...
absolute disgrace - a life of waste.Greatness, to me, is when a person strives, each and every day, to better themselves and the universe around them. They are not content with simply existing, and instead must operate under the terms of persisting...recognizing every moment as an opportunity to learn and unlearn something new.
Ya see, we can't all be rocket scientists, geologists, concert hall composers, celebrities, demigods, warlords, presidents or popes. We just can't. But we can embrace a life worth living - seeking new ways to improve the world around us - starting with ourselves. Thinking globally and acting locally has never been a bad idea. In fact, it's a wonderful idea. But it's not always as easy as making a few New Years resolutions and keeping them. You have to want, more than anything else, for a change.
Human beings may all be unique, but not all are special. In fact, few truly are - by definition. We have been lied to throughout the years by the generations before us - deceived by false encouragements and vain imaginations, boosting our ego instead of providing true character.
Because of these myths of grandeur, our failures became deep-seeded turmoils, preventing us from moving forward, creating a vacuum within us - a proverbial black hole - consuming our goals, our dreams, our ambitions, our confidence...and our hope.
We began settling for the next best thing, giving up on what was ideal, to pursue an easy catch; the brainless job, the shallow friends, the convenient love...and we became fat - ignorant to our own odor, oblivious to our awful, unforgivable reek.
..and it may take a terrible
sickness to rescue us...
...perhaps even a terrible death...
I refuse to tolerate the aroma of mediocrity any longer.Join me?
