I’ve always dreamed of being a great writer or novelist, but I don’t have the consistency of focus or the talent to achieve this. So instead, I got onto Tumblr and appeased my insecurities with the affirmations of strangers. I’m that great undiscovered talent that could have defined the age of my existence, if only I was noticed before I receded.
Often enough I’ve realised that the achievements of many are only as great as the recognition they got, not the recognition they deserved. Many of us have the potential to be truly great, but in the absence of affirmation or support, we wither away as nobodies in a sea of mediocrity. There’s no joy in writing for an audience that doesn’t exist. Nor is there joy in writing for personal satisfaction only. There is perhaps comfort or release in the latter, but very limited joy if any at all. This is because the deepest most ingrained desire of every human being is to be appreciated.
In the absence of appreciation, we give in to reckless abandon or complacency. I know I do. All the time.