Shutting yourself up might sound harsh and self deprecating – comedians might have a pass for it, given that it’s funny – but generally from the surface it really is, but hear me out. I really had no title for this because all I wanted to do was discuss the sudden transformation in my life that I allowed myself to have and put it up for someone else to read – in hopes that it might pass the idea on for some reader to give themselves their own chance to transform. Mid thought I might be overhyping this not realizing how normal this could be – I’m writing about it anyway.
Listen, I have (or had, still have some though) anxiety and issues with self belief. Literally everything I did came with some form of doubt “Is this thing I think I know actually right??” “Is what I’m doing helping a bigger purpose??” “Am I able to provide the world of any value?????” A lot of the times I’d say no. This caused anxiety – even to the point where it developed further to approach anxiety and the anxiety to BE MYSELF.
To put a few things into perspective disbelief and anxiety made me do worse in things I thought I couldn’t do (Which I could perfectly do!). I never allowed myself that natural human ability to figure things out you know – I thought I never could. Highschool became a dread because of low test scores and my narrow minded generalization that THAT defined who you were – I thought I was a dumbass. Now wait a second – you might be thinking it’s because of the family I had, the environment I lived in daily, NO it wasn’t – this was a personal thing. It’s a second life I hid, beyond it were fake smiles, laughs and from an unknown source a social personality.
It’s my 4th year right now in college and just now did I realize – it was all in my head. Remember those questions I mentioned? I tell you I had ten times more. Just a when they come up I tell myself to shut the HECK up! It’s almost like building a mental wall, whenever similar thoughts occur I tell myself to shutup and go on with life.
The main idea was to create space for the more important ideas and thoughts like current problems that needed solving and thinking most especially of their solutions. Whenever some random dude starts complaining how “hard” it is in my head, I give it a quick smack and tell em’ to SHUT UP!
Currently I can’t say I’m perfect I still feel trickles of anxiety and disbelief – of course I would, I’ve had to deal with it for a LONG while, you can’t expect something part of you to just dissipate so easily. To a point I might think this is a mental illness, I recall as a kid I never felt any of this. Now that I’m twenty and have experienced much of that – it puts others who are in a worse situation in the right perspective for me and into perspective how mental health is just as important as physical health.
It’s so easy for others to tell you to just shrug it off, to tell you to think “positively” or to compare yourself to others who are worse off and appreciate the blessings you have and that’s good, it’s the right step forward to healing but if you are experiencing anything you feel might turn into something serious get some professional help when you can.
So you’re here, why? I don’t know it really depends but I’m assuming you are frightened, frightened for you life most probably because Bibliophilia is a serious condition. It has no cure and when one acquires any of these symptoms just one, well the person is definitely with no doubt what so ever suffering it.
Bibliophilia is experienced everywhere, to anyone and at any time. Despite the random probability of it happening, not much carry such profound “disease” let’s say. If you’re thinking that you suffer from it, then do please have a look at this short list of my discoveries as a Bibliophile.
You suffer chronic Bibliophilia when :
1. You Cannot Stop Reading
It could be about anything, but the main root cause is this simple act. The act of consistently reading all day at all times whatever the reading material may be. It could be the newspaper from a week ago or a random receipt from Starbucks (Interesting stuff you could find there!)
2. You Cannot Move On From A Book After Finishing One
This my friends is one solid symptom that could just smack you in the face saying “You’re a Bibliophile bro” But moving on is one thing and moving on from a BOOK is another. Bibliophiles cannot get this horrible symptom down, never has anyone done it.
3. You’d Rather Smell Like A Book Then The Fancy Better Smelling Perfumes
Okay this I have to agree with, numerous times I’ve caught myself rubbing a newly opened book on my face celebrating each sniff I made during that. I know it’s weird but I suffer bibliophilia.
4. You Believe That The Spine of a Book Is More Important Then You’re Own Spine
You know that crunchy feeling when you’re non-reader friend just opens up the book and bends the spine like “damn it! This book is the portal to heaven I MUST OPEN IT EVEN MORE” Yes I’ve experienced that and I remember crying inside for a week. (I claim no truth of the final line of this paragraph)
5. You Want To Write A Book But You Don’t Write A Book
It’s peculiar how bibliophiles always revel in the thought of being published and having their names on kids walls I mean that would be great but sometimes some of us just aren’t cut out for it. But Bibliophiles never stop dreaming! (Doing is of slight chance)
6. You Sometimes Have Two Of The Same Book
One is for reading over and over again and the other is for display purposes on the glorious book shelf! Trust me, this is NOT OCD.
7. You Buy Books But Don’t Read Them, Collecting Them Perhaps
It’s true I believe. I’ve been to second hand bookshops and have come across brilliant books costing less than a McDonalds Burger and finding myself buying then storing them into my Book Cornucopia accepting that it will be lost there forever without me reading it again.
8. You’d Rather Read A Good Book Then Go To The Coolest Party In Town
I know that these days, the more parties you go to the cooler you be – not to mention popular. But bibliophiles prefer to stay at home against a warm fireplace reading a good book.
So there most probably is more, I’m still in an extensive research of myself trying to understand why we are who we are. But I’m pretty sure there’s more! I’d love to know! Helps a lot with what I’m trying to conjure here! Comment them down below!
I hope this was a fun read! Adios 🙂
[Being a Bibliophile is not bad at all, this was just written for humor and for fun!]
Hey there! I just found out about The Daily Post’s latest Weekly Writing Challenge. I’ve been keeping my eye on those for a while now, but I never had the stomach to take one on. But tonight’s a warm night and I’m feeling quite well of myself. The day has been good to me and I think I could handle one challenge.
For this week’s challenge the writer is to tell about a character in their life. It seems simple. But I won’t be doing exactly that. I haven’t met anyone in person that would be interesting enough to be turned into a sketch or story so I’ll be using a fictional character. A character that I created myself out of all the inspirations I’ve had in my life so far.
His name is Ivan. (Yes, I know – I used my name. But I like it) Ivan is a knight of the King’s guard in a kingdom of Greatness (I never had a thought about the kingdom, but Ivan’s the star here). In my story, he tells a story about the recent happenings in his day. (I’ll be writing this introspectively, I feel it would be a lot better if I wrote it in “Ivan’s” point of view.)
Ivan The Knight
The night is silent. A peculiar thing. I would usually hear the wolves of the weary woods howl their despairs, or the Keep’s stable horses huff and puff against the cold winds of the world, but tonight? it’s different. It is as if the world ceased to rotate, the mother earth refuses to live. But neither are true for I still sit here on my desk with my inked quill diligently writing another entry of today’s mishaps, while a lit candle dwindles as its remains melt into liquid.
If mishaps were a thing then I would be laden with such item. Not far into the day this morning I was to complete my first task as a man of the Knighthood. Ser Jory, captain of the King’s guard, personally handed it to me in the form of a scroll and to that I surmised that it must be of great importance.
The task wasn’t what I expected it to be. According to what was written, I was to deliver a basket of fruit to a lady outside Greatness and have it to her safely. I found it quite odd that a mere task of a street fool would be assigned to a knight. Don’t they see the insolence? But as a Knight, I vowed to do whatever there is provided by the captain and those who fall above me. And whatever task may it be, it shall be granted.
The ink has run out and I dip back for some more. The night is still silent and the moon still a sphere of radiance from the way I see it from my bedroom window. The candle still burning bright but slowly melting into nothing, the hearth still lightens the room with a crimson glow of fire. I don’t think I’ll be needing if it is lost.
It was when the sun started to set did I come back from my travel. The lady that needed fruit was old and frail, she walked with a swatting stick on hand trembling on every step. She had a companion though, a young boy in the primes of is youth, helping her. He took the basket from me and gave a curt nod and handed over three copper pieces. He waved back and returned to assist his Lady woman back. She herself nodded at me in approval while she looked into the contents of the weaved basket, rummaging as if in search of something deeper in it.
I came back to the castle quarters not long after and handed Ser Jory the pieces of copper. He still wore his armor, it gleamed silver against the glow of the hearth inside. I extended a hand to give, but he pushed it away and closed my fist around the coins. He looked at me with eager eyes and revealed a smile then left the room. Was this a sign of thanks? Maybe so, he did let me keep the reward. At the time I thought of going to the town Inn for a mug of ale, but I debated with myself and ended up deciding to take some rest instead.
I walked to the door of my room and opened the thick wood open. A gust of wind escaped, as if it were imprisoned for so long, sending shivers down my spine. The hearth was unlit and the sun slowly taking its final hours of the day leaving the room darker by the second. I moved towards to the looking-glass opposite the hearth. I examined my face, prodding my hardened jaws and cheeks. My eyes blinked to the sudden realization of how my silver eyes turned stark plain in time. I moved up towards the dangling streaks of my chestnut hair, brushing it up. It has grown very much since my cut a few months ago and I think I must shorten it soon. I squeezed my bony nose and chapped lips flowing downwards off the beard I’ve been wanting to grow. I glanced away.
I’m not sure how long I looked at myself but the light started to dwindle, it started to get dark. I lit up the hearth with the few firewood I had and in seconds the room blasted in colors of red and yellow. A silhouette formed behind me by the light, flickering from the flame’s constant movement. The cold seemed to dissipate, slowly being overwhelmed by the warmth and by the end of the minute the room turned cozy warm.
I walked around disarming myself of armor untying leather harnesses here and there. I hung my breastplate against the door while I laid my visored helm on a table next to it. I put the rest in a potato sack and secured it with a tie. I took off my sweaty clothes and wore a fresh new tunic and trouser from a cabinet next to my bed. I stretched a bit and brushed off dust from my garments, which I thought to come from lack of use. I scarce wore casual clothing after becoming a knight. Day in and day out I’d always be in my breastplate and helm appearing gallant to those who see me. It’s an arduous feat to keep in it all day, especially during hot weather but colder days are just as difficult. But I’ve grown used to it in time, it somehow becomes lesser of a hard task by each day.
After much grooming I decided to calm myself down with quill and paper. To which now I find myself here. I spoke of mishaps at the first paragraphs but it turns out the day was not as close to it. I frown upon the fact that sometimes I overlook my days and see it differently and most of the time as a bad one. It’s a curse of my childhood that I’ve always doubted myself. Mother would tell me at these times “Ivan, my love, just believe.. the days are not divided but is a long strand of time, you are endless.” When I hear these words, my worries would start to fade and a confidence would seep into me. And even to this day I feel the same. All I had to do is remember it.
I left the table and set down my quill. I thought it would be better to only put into paper the things that occurred today and not my thoughts. I capped the bottle of ink and pushed the chair backwards and rose. I bend down to blow off the candle’s fire while I rolled into a scroll another entry of a day in my life and tucked it in a drawer.
As I walk to my bed, the wolves start to howl and the horses alive with annoyances. I myself was annoyed, for the expectation of a tranquil night was destroyed. Nonetheless I lay myself down on my straw stuffed bed, my side facing the hearth. As I stare deeper into the fires, I see the prancing horses of joyful Knights, a great feast in the long table of the court and an uncontrolled revel. Then darkness. I slept.
It’s an unusual afternoon today here in my room. The sky is overcast, clouds refuse the sun’s hot though brilliant rays from touching Bahraini ground. I sit here on my chair facing the laptop’s screen, thinking and carefully conjuring a plausible explanation to why we are all famous.
Alright, the definition of famous according to the dictionary :
” Adjective : Famous [ fey – mus ] – Widely known and esteemed “
Now, famous according to this generation.
” Adjective : Famous [ fey-mus ] – Very well known and pried upon. “
Well I can agree we are all not the new famous but the old famous. But we are famous to the extent that we don’t know it. If you disagree then at least agree that we are all well known.
Why? Well try to widen your horizons. This post itself for example. Let’s look at it from they eyes of a reader ( which is you ) – You’ll suspect that it’s just another post by Ivan and read it or not. But you mentioned my name so that makes me known. And if you read it, you read my own work thus making me known. You could either think about the post all day and tell someone about it or not, but you made me known.
That’s in the point of view of one person. Let’s jump on to other perspectives. Let’s take myself for an example – I’m thinking right now what dad is thinking about, he could think about me or other things but the thought of him was there thus making him known. What about other bloggers? Do they like my work? And other more questions that lead to me. If you really think about it, other people are thinking about you no matter it be one or two. We are all known.
Like right now, I’m thinking about a friend of mine though he/she doesn’t know it. It makes him/her known. What are the chances that I’m the only one contemplating on them? That wouldn’t be unlikely. So I guess we are all famous. It’s just that we don’t know it. At this moment someone is thinking about someone and that someone would also think about another. What if all thoughts of the earth were visible and combined. It would definitely form a similar structure to the brain and the internet.
We are all famous. So the bottom line, Whatever you do – you become known whether you do it elusively or not. Which also leads to the most common way of making an impact ” is to change yourself ” – since yourself leads to thoughts to others, doing good and being inspired will most of the time do the same to others, same thing the other way around. If all people somehow realize this – I’m sure the world would be a better place. End.
Thanks for reading guys! Hope you guys have a happy weekend!
[ What are your thoughts on “unknown fame”? Comment below! ]