Why do we use pseudonyms and of course I am talking about my self, for I know that many of you do use your name as a title. But for those who don’t, what is it that scares you? Is it failure, is the fact that somebody will recognize our identity? That they might even judge you? Criticise you? Well let me tell you this is all bullshit. I shall explain why- if we are so concerned over what people might or might not think about us we are most likely destined to failure. Here, I’m not talking about socio-economical failure, no. Here I’m talking about something much worse. Personal failure. The ability to recognize yourself as a valid human being, capable of recognizing not only its virtues but their flaws too. Thus by hiding ourselves under a pseudonym we are rejecting, denning, lying to ourselves that we as humans have flaws. Some may argue this is symptom of having a low self esteem,then again some argue its a symptom of being a self-centred simpleton.
However, who am I to judge? Aren’t am I doing the same thing? Am I not veiled under the attempt of non-cliché façade? Well yes. What else can I say that I’m a hypocrite. But aren’t we all? We live in a world built upon the pillars of hypocrisy. We fight against the stereotypes but then we are one. We criticise people for criticising, but then again, isn’t that criticising too?
One of my dearest friends, Sir Mongolus (yes, Mongolus is not a pseudonym) always glares at me with that feline look of his and says
“Oh, I enjoy classical music, the echo of your mother’s violoncello endlessly reverberating through the thick summer air, the smell of rain dampening the ground, I enjoy the sun soothing my pelt as I lay on my back. Now call me a conformist if you may, but give me food and a bed and I’ll be happy. Because guess what? I don’t care what others say. They might say I’m fat. Well yes I am fat and that’s undeniable, my belly sweeps the ground as walk, so yes thank you for noticing, I’ve been thoroughly working on it lately. I’m glad you were able to appreciate it.”
At midnight, after old Mongolus sermons I bundle in the comfort of my sheets, glance across the infinite darkness, until my eyes sight the flickering red light of the telly. Dazzling through my corneas it sways me into frail sleep as I think to my self, why is it that I keep running away? When we are all the same in the end.In a world of clichés and judgement, what makes you original, unique, isn’t the fact you try to avoid them, but the way you decide to approach them.
Having said all this nonsense, I guess it’s time for me to go for a walk and by walk I mean coffee. Enjoy.