ttttypical.

yes, i've officially made this blog an excuse to post things i have to write in class. so yes. this essay was in response to the prompt, "My biggest fear in the world is.." enjoy the ridiculousy.

I usually dote on the idea that I am not scared of anything. I love nothing more than the window seat on an airplane. I see nothing wrong with humans and cockroaches coexisting. And I live for shark week on the Discovery channel. I obtained my black belt in Tae Kwan Do at the ripe age of 12, so I have pretty much always had a sense of reassurance in terms of my ability to protect myself from a majority of the dangerous perils of life. However, due to the thought provoking nature of this assignment and generally not having anything else to trouble myself with, I came to realize that I am scared of something. A fear so appalling that even as I think about it now, I shudder at the thought.

I am scared of the word typical. To clarify, this is not a simple case of onomatophobia, an irrational fear of certain words and sounds. It runs much deeper.
I guess I could start with the phonetics. Think about other words that end in ICAL: cubical, cynical, tyrannical, stoical, not exactly an exhaustive list, but I think you get my point. Words that end in –ical, are critical (sorry, last one). Without giving it another thought, I can say that aside from its spelling, I am horribly terrified of the very essence of what ‘typical’ stands for. More specifically, I’m scared of myself, being typical.

Whether it is in relationships, my outward appearance or during a conversation, I live in constant avoidance of things that are negatively connotated as typical. I cannot surrender to acting needy, I refuse to purchase Sperry’s and I avoid small talk whatever the cost.

It is an irrational fear, as most are, and even as I think about it further, images of bear attacks, thoughts of accidents that render me paralyzed and the overarching inevitability of death, don’t faze me in the least. It is the present. It is today. It is the notion that I could squander the infinite creative potential that is inherent in each new day I am given by being content with the status quo.

There is comfort in the familiar, convenience in the simple and practicality in the ordinary, but what about the beauty in imperfection, the excitement of the unknown and the inspiration of the original? It isn’t that I find fault with those embracing normalcy, it’s that from my perspective, the very thought of living a life that’s anything but my very own is maddening.

In kindergarten during the week spent learning about individuality, the fun fact that no two people’s fingerprints were the same really blew my mind. Everyone is unique. No two people are exactly alike. Those are just words, until you can prove it.