I'm dysfunctionally creative.
It's a confusing term, I understand. I can't really say I fully grasp what it means entirely. Is it a negative thing? A positive thing? If the concept was a woman (Or an equally attractive man) would I be willing to have sex with it for a large sum of cash? Honestly, I don't really know. I'm going to try to explain it though. This way kids- To the Magic School Bus!
I have family who aren't creative. I don't know how it is possible, but they've been able to make it through life without the urge to read, write, sing, or simply create. They seem to be able to survive in this void of existance that holds no adventure or awe. Not only do they survive, mind you, but they seem to thrive! They seem to be happy. Content. Proud. They all have their ordinary lives that they move through while doing their ordinary jobs. They drive their ordinary cars to said ordinary jobs and perform some ordinary task until the day is over. Then they return to their ordinary house- Maybe occasionally making love to their ordinary spouse- before starting the whole thing over again the next day.
Now this isn't me saying those things are bad. Everybody needs ordinary. Everybody needs that job to survive or to perform that ordinary function of everyday life to continue. However, these family members of mine don't seem to want to try to find any form of creativity save for the occasional movie that feature explosions, boobs, and booze.
But they are happy, aren't they? They are!
That what makes me feel that my creativity is dysfuctional. You see, I have that ordinary job in an ordinary apartment. I do ordinary tasks and pay my rent with ordinary money (Alright, I think we're going to stop with the 'ordinary' bit right here). Unlike my relatives, though, I need to be creative. My creativity makes me look at my actions and it hurts! Instead of debugging software, I'd rather be fighting off large, mutated insects like I'm from 'Star Ship Troopers'. Instead of sending in my rent, I get the the urge to send my landlord a map that will lead him to where I've buried his precious 'booty'. I want to act. I want to write. I want to be that guy who isn't afraid to dance down the street, starting a musical riot, that will inspire some kid to make a musical about a guy who dances down the street starting a musical riot!
Insert dramtic music here... Hey, maybe if I learn how to work this blog, I can insert some dramatic music. Maybe some mood lighting... a carpet-
I digress.
The problem is I'm afraid of my creativity not being good. That's as simplistic as I can say it. I'm afraid that my creativity won't compare to someone elses. I'm afraid to try out for plays. I'm afraid to publish my scripts. I'm afraid to show people my stories. And what even scares me more is sometimes I crave becoming ordinary and ignorant and happy.
So here I am. I came to cyberspace when I was thirteen years old to see an actual boobie, and I have returned again! But this time, I'm not looking for boobies (Well... maybe later). I'm looking for courage!
- Damn'it, that sounded lame. Okay, trying it again.
I'm looking for boobies!
- Damn'it, no! One more time.
I'm looking for a place to be creative! I'm looking to conquer my fear of exposure and just show the world my creativity. And I'm looking to make my creativity -better- by enjoying everyone's constructive critisism! Am I afraid it won't be good? You bet. Am I afraid that somehow, my stuff will end up stolen? Heck yeah! But damn'it, I'd rather every bad thing happen to my work than have it never seen by anyone save for me and that guy who stole my laptop a few years ago.
So.
Here I go.
I'm William.
And I'm dysfunctionally creative.
