In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Six of One, Half a Dozen of the Other.”

Rad Blog.

This is a prompt response!

This prompt says write a six word story about what I think the future holds for me and then expand on it in this post.

I have a few problems with this prompt, but by writing about it, I will obviously entertain it.

First of all, how can a story be six words long? Don’t go explaining flash fiction to me, because I know what it is. I feel like six words is mostly just a statement.

Here it is.

Automatically, I’m content with being uninspired.

Now, here’s my second problem. The point of flash fiction is to tell a story with a small amount of words so that all those litt-major high-horses can discuss what it means. Me explaining this to you defeats that purpose. I will do it anyway because I don’t like flash fiction and I’m in a poor mood.

I’ve been in a pretty low place this entire week. I’m pretty sure it started on Tuesday. Anyway, today I made a realization. There is no point to anything I do because I am destined for the same mediocre results. I am nothing special.

There’s those motivational speakers that try to inspire everyone with their words. I’ve watched a few of their videos, mostly because I was interested in what they were trying to say. The other part was that someone took their speech and put it on top of a video of this footballer showing off his skill. Anyway, I feel like these are false positives.

All these motivational talks are the same. Keep trying and you’ll be great. Quitters never prosper. They miss one essential detail.

If I wanted to be a writer, which I don’t, and I took these motivational guy’s words to heart, then I could be a writer? Maybe. Would I be successful? Highly unlikely. There are also many other people who want to be writers and also will give their all. Some will win. Some will lose. It comes down to skill and appeal. Even if I try my best, I may never find success. A positive attitude only goes so far.

No. I don’t believe that I should fill my head with hype. I know that I will never amount to anything. Think about the world. How many of those people are truly the best at what they are? Even if one claims t o be the best, there’s probably someone out there that claims to be better. Sure, you could challenge them, but other challengers will come. Who wants to live that way? Athletes? I surely don’t wanna be fighting for the top spot for the rest of my life. It sounds very, very tedious.

The enemy of The Incredibles  says it best I think: “When everyone’s super, no one will be.” It is true.

So, what does this mean to me? I am going to be content with what I have and what will be. If I am stuck in a dead end job, then that is truly where I belong unless opportunity presents itself to me to do something else. I will not go seek destiny because there is no point. I am not ever going to be great. Having ideas only sets me up for more misery.

This, of course, is what my future holds for me. Currently, I am not fully accepting this because I don’t fully realize it yet. I’m still too young to give up on myself completely. In time, I will learn it. I hope it comes sooner rather than later because maybe I’ll be less sad all the time when I find the average as copacetic. Just need some time.

So that’s my explanation.

I promised to write a story. I might do it today. I might not. I’m currently in a very, very poor mood and writing a story really doesn’t have an appeal to me at the moment. Best not to force it, ya?

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