The Curse of being an average
It is very queer to be just an average. All my life I have been just but average. Just achieving enough to be not categorized in the lower strata and bad enough to be not even considered for the upper strata, whether it comes to the social circle, academic excellence or the dreaded athletic circle. I wish I could say I was the underdog in my high-school who never got noticed or I was the super popular kid who people could never get enough of. I just wish that the thing all my life I have just wished to be something or someone, either for the better or the worse I have just wished to be in a different scenario than I was.
The curse of being an average is pretty much worse than you could imagine. It’s not just as simple as being invisible, it's a daily struggle to find your self-worth. When you tell your friends or the people you deem close enough to be disclosed about your fears, they show you the people who have it worse but then when you are alone you can just see people who have it better than you, and you aren’t even talking about people like Bill Gates here, you are just referring to that guy who you thought, was a dumb edgy kid, who is now living an awesome life in a European country and posting photos of sun-kissed Sundays in the suburban alleys of Paris, while you are stuck at your dead-end job pulling all-nighter shifts for nothing but a grunt from your boss. But then there are people who would point their fingers at people who are earning way less than you and doing the same as you are.
Well, to be honest, its sometimes frustrating, frustrating enough even a marathon of Harry Potter or Perks of being a wallflower can’t solve. When I think of it even Charlie was great at something, to refer to Mr. Anderson, Charlie could write a book one day, but then you know maybe you got the same issues as Charlie did but then all you could manage in your entire life was this below-par emotional blog that none of your friends would read, and the ones who do would be creeped out by the same. Being an average takes away the joy of ever tasting success and always leaves with you the hope that maybe someday you will make it, but then deep down you know that mostly you won’t.
Starting from being the understanding boyfriend who maybe just lacked the adventurous factor to the guy who could just manage an average national level college your life, your life becomes the subject of averages. I will always be good but not just good enough for something or someone, thus I will lack people sympathizing with me and at the same time missing out on things that I really want to have.
Maybe the worst part of being an average is that the people are interested to dig, but then they are in the end disappointed that they chose to dig into your life. As the rains pour outside and I feel the chaos it is causing to the world around me, I can’t just help but think that I would be just a drizzle in this world of drought and floods.