Writingbolt's Creation

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I’m noticing more and more famous faces being reduced to pitch men and women for the most questionable products. And, it has sparked a brainstorm, the self-inspection sort.

What is truly good, bad and ugly about me?

I think of these famous faces…and I wonder what went wrong for them. I won’t go into names or reasons; I just need to vent how this troubles me. When I first saw them, I was strangely elated if not enamored. I liked what I saw and heard from them. Then they disappeared for a while. And, when they returned, they didn’t look so good. Some even stooped so low to be considered tools of the forces that seek to ruin this world.

First thought…

Am I a really BAD judge of people?

I think so. At least, my luck at picking GOOD people has been far from stellar. So much for my instincts, wisdom and luck. I suck at the To Tell the Truth. My favorites in the past few political elections have been mistakes, to be polite. I’m betting the trait runs in the family. While I’ve had lousy luck finding trustworthy doctors as an adult, when I was a minor, my parents didn’t often have good luck, either.

Being a lousy judge of character is not a GOOD trait to have. Nope. Count yourself lucky if you do better.

But…second thought…

I think of every time I watch a show that involves pricing or giving a value to things…and how precise my guesses are. I’m reaaaally GOOD at guessing prices and appraisals. But, who cares about that? What does that do for me? The last thing I care to think about in this world is money. It’s the root of so many problems. It’s trouble disguised as something that keeps the world running, if you subscribe to the insurance/cattle-driving scheme. If I had to have one thing etched on a tombstone, it would not be HE EXCELS AT PRICING THINGS.

Instead, let’s focus on the one thing that keeps me alive, most days. Creativity (and a surviving sense of humor). If I didn’t (and the rest of my sad examples of family didn’t) have the spark that creates some amazing things, I’d probably die from lack of value. I’d just POOF! turn to dust or fall to the ground and rot. Now, if only I could do some real, major, historical good with this talent. I’m still working on that. And, I really don’t want to be just another artist who got famous after he died, letting countless scavengers snarl and fight over my leftovers.

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And, lastly, the UGLY.

I don’t need to go into this too much. I don’t want to, either. Simply put, all I have to do is look in a mirror to see most of it. Am I happy with my appearance? No. I mean, I’m content enough to know I am a heterosexual male with an unconventional delicate side that separates me from all of the butt-loving and/or sex-obsessed members of the human species. I know I like a variety of women; I’m not too picky but know what I like when I see it.

Genetics in my family sucks. Period. Although, scroll back to the GOOD, and you can ponder the plus of all the creative energy we possess…and fail to effectively use to improve the world. [But, that could always change; one of more of us might yet find a place and means to do some real good in this world with our creative powers.]

Okay. Brainstorm over. Gray skies are clearing. Put on a happier face. Now, go on; get outta here.