All my life I had been looking for something, and everywhere I turned someone tried to tell me what it was. I accepted their answers too, though they were often in contradiction and even self-contradictory.
I was naïve. I was looking for myself and asking everyone except myself questions which I, and only I, could answer. It took me a long time and much painful boomeranging of my expectations to achieve a realization everyone else appears to have been born with that I am nobody but myself.
The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another. To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
The great majority of us are required to live a life of constant duplicity. Your health is bound to be affected if, day after day, you say the opposite of what you feel, if you grovel before what you dislike, and rejoice at what brings you nothing but misfortune.
Almost every man wastes part of his life in attempts to display qualities which he does not possess, and to gain applause which he cannot keep.
Today, I think of life itself now as a wonderful play that I’ve written for myself, and so my purpose is to have the utmost fun playing my part. I’m learning too… be what you are, and learn to resign with a good grace all that you are not.
I am much better employed from every point of view, when I live solely for my own satisfaction, than when I begin to worry about the world. The world frightens me, and a frightened man is no good for anything.
No comments:
Post a Comment