Everyone wants to be profound. It’s almost funny how hard people try. I think we’re beyond profound by now. I see the profound as the ramblings of a drug addict in the middle of his or her journey to oblivion.
That’s so profound, man.
Is it really that important? Be honest, even if your honesty is boring, or irritating, or completely misunderstood. I’d rather be with one boringly honest person than a hundred “truly profound” individuals.
I’m not profound. I never have been. There was a time in my teens when I believed a whimsically beautiful view of the world could bring about a sense of enlightenment.
I was happy, but I was wrong.
Call me cynical, jaded, or whatever else you might like. I enjoy the cold, hard reality I’ve found outside of the comforting fog.
If what you know is this beautiful and optimistic world, or the dream of changing lives with just a few words, then by all means continue.
I’ll stick to what I do, even if it isn’t always so pretty and well-received.