Exit, existential crisis

I don’t like writing stories. A list of events. “Hey, this is my day, here’s how it went, this it what I did” It always ends up with me getting half way through, becoming bored, reading it back thinking “This is shit.” and deleting everything.

I wrote this post yesterday, in a completely different format. ^ that first paragraph is why you didn’t see it. ^ version 2. 

Life.

Life is pretty weird, but funny in it’s own little way. Yesterday I had a mild existential crisis in the middle of the day, by nightfall everything had shifted to the opposite end of the spectrum. I was happy as fuck with life.

I guess rather than looking forward and cowering at the unknown, I looked back at how far I’ve came and got excited thinking of how far I’m still yet to go. It kind of pushed me to propel myself forward in a strange way.

The things I once wanted for myself, the things that were my dreams– in the loosest sense of the word– are now things that have no bearing on how I live my life. Do I want a mansion? Not really. A Rolls Royce? Naah.

I look at the menial things I’ve experience, and how they’ve had possibly the biggest effect on me. Maybe at the time they didn’t but looking back on them they absolutely did.

My maths teacher taught me much more than maths. You can be accepted, and loved, just as you are. You can be strange, and sarcastic, and overly blunt, and generally a bit weird, and people will still hold you in high regard. Possibly higher regard. Be yourself. Do things your way. Take pride in that, and never change yourself for others. Fuck conformity, fuck the norm. He taught me from age 13 to 18, I realised all of this after I left sixth form. Shout out to Mr Gatrell, a legend if ever there was one. “Build a bridge, and get over it.” “Winner winner, chicken dinner.” Legend.

Fear of being shouted at as a 17 year old showed me that success means more when you struggle and give everything to get it. It’s worth that much more. I didn’t realise this until after I turned 20. To this day, that C in A-Level Spanish means more than any grade or qualification I’ve ever gotten.

Talking to strangers online in broken Spanish, more or less, planted the seed that dropping out of university was maybe the right thing to do. Regardless of what anyone else said. Step out of the lab and into the world, there’s more for you out there than there is in here. Go. This realisation came a year later than it should’ve. 

An Australian bloke I spoke to for 2 days in Barcelona taught me more about myself and living my life in general than anything I’d done in the 4 years beforehand. Create your own worldview. Create your own scale of success. There is no universal measure of a good life, it’s what you make it. Don’t strive for a career, a wife, kids and a white picket fence if they’re the last things you want. 

Retail taught me that the little things really do matter. One comment can ruin your entire day if you let it. Similarly that a smile is infectious if you let it catch you. Don’t let yourself get sucked into the bullshit that life throws at you. People thrive off of gossip and negativity, join in if you must, but you don’t have to be like that. Stay true to you.

Kids taught me to be selfless. What might mean very little to you, could mean the world to them. Give your time, give your energy. The feeling they’ll leave you with is worth its weight in gold. Ten year olds I’d known for a week couldn’t reduce me to tears at saying goodbye… Could they? I’ve had more fun at kids camps with the kids, than with a lot of my friends. No offence.

Failed relationships taught me to be selfish. You can’t please everyone, Flynn. More to the point, you have to please yourself over everyone else. You’re going to hurt people along the way, and they’re going to hurt you. Nobody wants it to happen. Nobody means any real harm by it. They’re just looking out for number 1, which is exactly what they should be doing – try not to harbour any hate because of this. Don’t mope in what you can’t control. 

Failed relationships taught me that my heart isn’t actually made of stone as I thought for 20~ years it was. You care about people. Not many, but you have cared about some. You’re capable of love. You’re capable of being in a relationship. Those years you dreamt of isolation. Working from home, behind a laptop. No relationships, no drama, just you. Solo. “Chillin’ ” That’s not you, and it doesn’t need to be you. Sometimes, and only sometimes, you’re not so antisocial. Experiences are better shared. Dinner for 1 isn’t as fun as dinner for 2. The view from the top of the mountain is to be shared. Sitting on the beach isn’t so fun when you’re alone. 

I guess, where I’m trying to go with this is that: There isn’t one Big Bang moment where my life goals become crystal clear and everything becomes simple all at once. Life is a learning curve, and you’ll figure it out in pieces. You’re growing with every breath you take, every new experience. Every new encounter, every new conversation. You’re not the same person you were before. It’s just that, You won’t realise it in the moment, you’ll be too busy living it. Only when you sit down, and reflect on all the small steps you’ve taken will you realise just how far you’ve travelled. 

You’ve experienced so much over the years, learn from it. 

Maybe you don’t know where you want to be in a year, in 5 years, 10, in 50 god forbid you’re still alive and kicking. But mate, that’s just fine. Are you happy now? Yeah? Then what else matters?

Love, Flynn x

Leave a comment