From buying a scoop of the new ice-cream to the new toy in the market, having a girlfriend to getting the fanciest job there is, I have a reason to believe that somewhere down the line you just look back at things and wonder, why was it so overrated. Even if the disappointment isn’t to why did people make a big deal out of things and freak you out, the disappointment maybe in the expectation of things. You may have wanted much more, and had to settle with whatever the situation had to offer. In the moment of disbelief that the idea that you had envisaged ever since you were a child was indeed a charade to lead you into the rat race of nothingness, shatters you within.
Being overrated isn’t an attribute that adorns a fancy prospect of ‘make-believe ideations’, but sometimes with everyday trivia too. Happiness for example is one of the most overrated things in life. You concentrate too much on the feeling that you fail to understand what exactly is driving that emotion. People who get high as well as those who achieve something, are happy alike, yet some are miserable and some not.
I am bothered these days by one of life’s biggest dilemma, choosing a career path. Not only do i find myself staring at walls again, I usually zone out so much, that my brain perceives the flashes of reality as a figment of imagination. Contemplating on career prospects isn’t easy, and having too many ideas doesn’t really supplement the cause, rather inhibits it. So, my make-believe channels of evaluation of a career usually involves me sitting in a specific environment, focusing on substance than just ideas. I find myself asking questions to whether or not I see myself in a place where the cubical is my domain and I am the lonesome entity frolicking through the arduous journey of life whilst sitting there. Well, basically I don’t see the corporate idea to be any good but to an extent overrated. Money being showered on me like confetti as I dance through it isn’t my life long fantasy. Although I am very intrigued by the idea of having a summer cottage by the hills or maybe a farmhouse somewhere overlooking a lake, as I sit and wield my pen to write trashy nonsense. Being an author is definitely on the cards. But the strange part in life is , these cards for me are being played by someone else. I just get to pick one up with my career on it and voila, end up as a data analyst at a bank.
I try stuff out, or should I say, contemplate and initiate with a focused reverence of the situation, draw inferences and eventually negate avenues. Its just that they don’t turn out to be the way I had thought it would be. I don’t know if its me or the entire world is a cheat. Why disappoint already disgruntled souls and lead them onto things, which weren’t great in the first place. If God was a big conglomerate in the private sector, he would do wonders. He would brand everything as essential, label it as a requisite to our very existence and then have us kill each other trying desperately to get our hands over them. Wait….maybe he already is.
Anyways, I don’t mean to sound all cynical. There is an element of fun to everything we do. Maybe what is deemed as overrated has an inherent connection to our interests and purpose in life. Maybe its a mechanism to ensure that we find true satisfaction in not what society makes us believe is worth doing, but something that truly completes us. Maybe I won’t land up with that corporate job with loads of money to offer and a guest house with an adjoining pool. I don’t want it anyways. Maybe I will fashion a paintbrush up my ears and paint a masterpiece as I set sail through the cloudy burrows of moonlight Venice.