^Futility. Sadly, Danny Carey from Tool was no longer drumming for the band on this track…
Ambition is something I’ve struggled with forever. When I was much younger I’d be called ‘moody’ because I didn’t like doing a lot of the same things other kids did, mainly because most of it seemed redundant. It’s kind of like how I don’t like getting drunk because I hate being hungover. Sure the initial buzz is nice, but I know that for every hour I keep that buzz going, I’ll have to pay for it the next day. What’s the point? And so I keep closing myself off and retiring into myself. My old man described one of his brothers as being ‘big in the head’ which sounded like a rather apt description of me as well, though it’s really just another way of saying introverted.
In today’s day and age it seems less about being the bear that goes over the mountain to see what he could see; and more about being the bear that goes over the mountain to see that he’s being seen. Like Antonio’s excellent
rant against sh!tty youtube covers or Trollheart’s scathing take on
‘liking’ everything through Facebook it seems that if you’re not doing something to be seen then it doesn’t really count – and if it’s not something the masses automatically recognize then forget about it too. I understand that we all want a little validation and attention, it’s nice to feel recognized but at the same time I don’t think people need to be congratulated for getting dressed in the morning (and yes… I’ve met / had to deal with people exactly like this
at work in the past).
I’d be lying if I tried to claim I wasn’t just as much of an attention whore too – I just go about it the other way. Rather than being the loudest or flashiest I’ll be the quiet one in the corner who hardly says anything until everyone else starts wondering, “WTF is wrong with Dave?” and then
voila! I’ve been noticed; though it inevitably always results in, “Why can’t you just be like everyone else?”
My other frustration with social ambition is that it seems that most of the encouragement I hear is so that the other person can have some sort of indirect connection to whatever result you achieve; like a muse taking credit for the artist’s work. In my family it’s pretty clear that only the people actively trying to sell albums for a dollar and working a stage for fame should be calling themselves musicians, the rest of us who’ve also played instruments for years or decades… not so much. The drums I picked up a few weeks ago? Just another ‘toy’ in my apartment. Is it really so wrong that I chose to play music for the fun of it exclusively? Apparently. Even this journal, if I passed the link around to certain relatives I’d be hearing “See!
I told you, you should be a writer!
I knew you’d be good at it.” To be perfectly honest I’m using this journal as a personal challenge to see if I can force myself to write ~1000 words every other week for a year as well, I don’t need someone else diminishing my accomplishment so they can stroke their ego a bit more.
I won’t say it was better back in the day, it’s just different now and I’m the one who needs to find a way to adapt. The internet and social media have made it so that anything can be available for consideration and judgment almost immediately upon creation. Just consider how often there are people joining the forum specifically to create a single thread to get feedback on something they just created moments earlier. As if not getting instant gratification will somehow spoil the result of their work rather than allow them time to refine it and present something more substantial. Don’t think my own hypocritical stance on the matter is lost on me either, my own collection of personal mp3s are all sh!tty first takes as well. Difference being I recognize them as being crappy, they’re meant for us, you
had to be there to really get the full effect and feeling. That’s not to say it can’t be enjoyed by others but I can’t see how anyone could possibly claim to like it that much.
Deep down I think I’m still just looking for that foolish / childish nod of approval from my old man, to hear “Wow! That’s
my boy!”. Never going to happen, nor do I want to hear it as a patronizing line either. It’s more like that fundamental encouragement seems to be missing, like everything I do is an attempt rather than an accomplishment and I’m little more than an afterthought rather than an idea. Nothing I make could possibly ever compare to what the ‘real’ artists in my family have created. On another hand it seems like I was denied the full opportunity to enjoy my youth so that a few others would never have to let go of their own. In a sense I’m doing the same back to them by denying the possibility of extending their own existence through not procreating my own. But I digress, that’s a whole other metaphysical paradox I’m struggling with.
So I’m left to my own devices as I’ve always been. Worrying about satisfying others will only diminish my own direction (or lack thereof). It’s not that external opinions are irrelevant or worthless, but I don’t think they should be allowed to become a primary motivator. Again I’m faced with addressing hypocrisy within my psyche; and all I can do is strive to come out on top of that mountain – AND SEE WHAT
I CAN SEE!!!
Eventually.