“They heard me singing and they told me to stop
Quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock
These days my life, I feel it has no purpose
But late at night the feelings swim to the surface
‘Cause on the surface the city lights shine
They’re calling at me, come and find your kind
Sometimes I wonder if the world’s so small
That we can never get away from the sprawl.”
-Arcade Fire, Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)
For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived with a burning desire to create. To express myself. To explode into the world for all to see. It’s an itch that can’t be scratched. I need to sing, I need to dance, I need to write. There’s just no other option. I’m sure that all sounds great, but the truth is it has caused a tremendous amount of pain and confusion. I wouldn’t change it for the world, but the creative life isn’t all butterflies and rainbows like many people make it seem.
I often find it very difficult to relate to people. For much of my life I assumed that everyone had the same itch I did, but that is far from the truth. In my experience, most people I meet don’t. That’s not in any way a knock on them, it’s just an observable fact. But it sure is lonely. And confusing. And sometimes downright disheartening.
I’ve often wondered why I’m like this. Why everyone around me seems so “normal,” when I’m out here on my island of misfit joys. When people ask me what I do I give them the list: I sing, play multiple instruments, write, weightlift and don’t drink. And so often the response I get is… something that resembles fear. Or disbelief. Or condescension. And maybe that’s all in my head, but that’s what I feel. Almost like a subconscious voice telling me, “That’s not what you’re supposed to be doing. You should be a good adult and do all of the things you’re supposed to do.” Too late for that.
I wasn’t born with the best voice, but I sing my heart out anyway. I wasn’t born a natural musician or writer, but I play and I write everyday. I wasn’t born with the perfect physique, but I make the absolute best of what I got. And I have no plans of stopping anytime soon, or ever for that matter. When I was younger I told myself if I wasn’t famous by 30 I’d give up everything and do what the world told me to do. Needless to say, that didn’t last; all of these things have become a part of who I am. I don’t do it to get famous. I don’t do it to get praise. At this point in my life I do it because I couldn’t imagine my life without it.
The Arcade Fire lyrics at the top of this article really sum up that feeling that I know too well. That feeling of being weird, that feeling of thinking I’m a fraud, that feeling of the whole world telling me to “stop singing”. To be clear, it’s not a person, it’s a feeling, and I think that’s what they mean when they say, “the sprawl”. The fear and doubt that lingers throughout society (or my mind) that tells me that I should put down the charade and get in line. The sprawl is everywhere, always. But I have the choice whether to give into it or not.
While I watch all my peers getting married and having kids and progressing in their careers, I’m most concerned with finding the perfect bridge for the song I’m currently writing. For today, that’s my baby, and I have no plans to change that anytime soon. I used to wonder if I have some sort of Peter Pan syndrome, if all of this creativity is just a way to avoid the inevitable responsibilities of adulthood. These days I tend not to agree with that theory. We all have a different path, and there’s no right way. The “normal” roads are inhabited by many, so they are comfortable. But they’re not wrong, nor is any path less trodden. We’re all here on this spinning space rock trying to find our reasons why, and we all have different answers. It’s actually one of the most beautiful parts of being alive.
For all you weirdos out there, I love you. I understand you. Keep singing, writing, dancing, painting - keep creating in every way you can. I promise you that I will as well. And when the sprawl inevitably knocks on our doors, we can together give it a proper “FU”.
I’ve always felt, and still feel, that while “normal” is all relative, most people were born with this inherent ability to function in this life and figure it out, while I somehow missed that gene.