Have You Failed at All Attempts To Be Conventional?

Hey, Artist, you started hearing it in elementary school: Gosh, that girl is weird. You remember wondering what the Dickens weird was. In your head, you were a slice of Wonder Bread. And what was weird about that?  It is true conventional is not your style. The whole "be at work at eight a.m. and leave at five" meme is just unnatural to you. 

What happens if you have an idea at one in the morning?  It won't wait for the "correct" time frame.   When you work all night, it is tough to get up in the morning. Some manager person at work points a finger at you and says you are trying too hard and bucking the natural order. You feel that you should receive a medal, but instead, you get a pink slip. 

Now, you are out of work again. And you are supposed to unhappy about that. Instead of being unhappy, tripping glee is coursing through your veins. It had been a dumb job. Now you finally have time to work on the art projects that on the back burners. You pull them out and take long walks at the park and enjoy the chance to breathe. You are a bubbling cauldron of "toil and trouble" and that is a wickedly good thing. 

One day at lunch with your friends, strangely your friends always have the time for lunch, you mention that you don't understand why people think you are weird. Someone leans back in a chair and entreats. "Dear God (insert your chosen deity here or revise with chosen curses), why would you want to be normal?" That makes sense and you forget about being weird and focus on that important discussion about Star Trek that you and your friends have been arguing about for the past five years.  

The next day between your stare-out-the-window time and your hour to stare at a painting that you think is cool, it occurs to you that you have failed at all attempts to be conventional. You have been fired from every conventional job.  People call you lazy, but you know that you are the busiest person you know. The truth is immutable. You are an off-beat Bohemian. 

You probably know the solution for world peace. You also know how to stop all inequality among people. You even have a thought or two about stopping world hunger. This kind of rebel knowledge does not endear you to the world at large, but leads you to hard knocks from "The Man." You wish you had a nickel for everyone that has told you that you will never amount to anything.  It has not gone beyond your notice, that those folks are specks of dust on a small planet, in an average galaxy, in a mongo universe, that's probably part of infinite multi-verse. I mean. 

Here is my bit of advice, avant-garde Weirdo.  Thank your lucky stars.  Thank them every day. Do your thing. Never stop. 

You need a doodle. Here you go: 

Here is a quote for your pocket from a weirdo, the great poet, John Lennon. 

You may say I'm a dreamer but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us and the world will live as one.