It can happen anywhere. Anytime. No matter who you’re with or what you’re doing.
Say you’re sitting with your friend, having a nice chat at some cafe by the beach. All is well. But suddenly you, and everyone else around, hear an odd rumbling sound that echoes among the streets.
Probably some large truck rolling by, you think, trying so desperately to reassure yourself.
Then comes the eerie silence. All humans transform into a uniform entity of quiet, awkwardly glancing at each other with expressions of worry. That was definitely no ordinary truck.
And then comes the shaking. Shaking so forceful that it sends everybody in the cafe to stumble out of their seats. The lights flicker and swing. Debris crumbles from the ceilings. Cars honk and stop in their tracks. It’s not long before everyone collectively realizes that an earthquake is taking place at this very moment.
The shaking gets worse. Nobody can stand up straight due to the ground’s cruel and unexpected jerks. People start to panic, stumbling out of the cafe and out of other various stores of the area. Distressed screams can be heard from every street imaginable. Buildings are now collapsing, gas is leaking, and fires are starting. Starting up just like my anger.
Now let’s talk less about this natural disaster and more about original ideas. Ever know the feeling when you think of a concept so great that you think nobody else could have thought of the same thing? Feels absolutely amazing, right? Until you find out that you aren’t as original as you believed to be. Once you see the one concept, the one story, the one comic that is exactly like yours, you immediately panic and are sent into a fit of anger.
At least that’s what happens with me. I become so angry by this groundbreaking discovery that I have to scream. I scream so loud that the walls ring with fury. Every bit of my attention aims towards digging deeper into figuring out who, why, and how someone else thought of my “original” idea that cost so much passion and so much heart.
But then comes the discouragement. Oh boy, the discouragement. It washes over you, flushes out the anger, and swallows you whole. Just like the deadly tsunami that follows the menacing earthquake.
It may quench the fires, but in return will grasp everything in its path no matter who or what you are.
Ready to take. Ready to destroy. The looming waves will drown your body, heart, and soul into the ocean of unoriginality, where all the same, indistinguishable fish linger. They monotonously swim about, opening and closing their mouths as if wanting to escape from the degrading abyss. But they can’t escape. They’re all the same, all thinking the same exact way, all unoriginal. And you can’t escape either. You don’t really feel like it, really. The thoughts of being pathetic and worthless flash through your overwhelmed mind until you eventually give in to the large, swirling masses of the fish.
Suddenly a hand reaches for you and pulls you out of that trance.
You’re alive. But you don’t look too pretty. Who cares, though? What someone should really be caring about is the proper treatment for the rescued. Compassion, genuine compliments, and positivity are what’s needed. With these, you can be able to pull someone out of their pockets of discouragement. And trust me, it really does help.