I Am Cliché


The more I blog, the more I’m confronted by an issue to which I have never really given much consideration: the impossibility and nonexistence of original thought. What a strange thing it is to realize that everything I write is cliché, has been done before, that every thought I’ve had has already been in somebody else’s brain. And reading other writers’ thoughts; they’re so much like mine. It makes it apparent that human beings are a close camaraderie, no matter how much our opinions differ.

This is all an obvious part of life, the strange thing is that it seems to both nullify and validate all of our creative efforts. It seems to define us. Why bother creating anything if it’s all been done before? Creativity seems to not exist for the sake of being different, but for the sake of being the same, thread that ties us together like human patchwork. Maybe this is why we strive so hard for individuality, because it’s unachievable. We’re different shapes but we’re cut from the same cloth.

Not unexpectedly, all this has been thought before too to some degree, by people like Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud. This probably isn’t a new idea to you either, but it’s an idea that has a lot of depth that has yet to be explored, even in psychology circles. The problem is that it makes creative ambition seem pointless, like the rug has been ripped out from under the reasons for making things like art and music. But it hasn’t really, because these things have many reasons for being given to us that we don’t even understand.

The good thing is that our human camaraderie somehow validates our individuality as well as denying its existence. We’re all the same at the basic levels, but each one of us is vastly different too. It’s like we all fish ideas from the same ocean, and we often catch the same types of fish, but never the exact same fish. I think our minds are connected that way, like a sea of thought from which we all fish. I think our souls and spirits are connected much the same way as well, and God is like a great force of life that we are all broken from. So spirituality is finding our way back to that Life from which we came.

The problem we often face is how to feel individual when there have been so many others before, just like us. I guess commonality doesn’t really make anything less valuable, though we tend to think that way. There are tons of butterflies but every one is beautiful, and there are zillions of stars, but well, you get the idea. So think something original today, and then think about how unoriginal it really is, and when you look at someone else realize that you’re looking in a mirror.

I always wonder if my ideas (like this one), that seem so laughably profound to me, are obvious to everyone else. I think a lot of times that is the case. I think things and write things that everyone else has already thought of. And so I can’t help but wonder why it is that no matter how deep I think, I never really get that deep. I only skim the surface when there are depths below to explore. I guess it’s time to go fishing in those mental and spiritual oceans and see what I catch.

“You have many years ahead of you to create the dreams that we can’t even imagine dreaming. You have done more for the collective unconscious of this planet than you will ever know.” – Steven Spielberg (www.brainyquote.com)

All original content copyright S.D. de la Rosa, 2012.


~ by Sara on October 29, 2012.

3 Responses to “I Am Cliché”

  1. True story:

    Many years ago I wrote 2 acts of a 3 act play. It was set in Charles de Gaulle airport. An electrical storm had closed the airport and the story revolved around 11 travellers who’d passed on the paid hotel rooms and rode the storm out in a bar. Unable to figure out where it was going I shelved the idea and forgot about it. Six months later I was watching a Sunday arts program. They were interviewing an English composer who’d just written a three-act opera set in Charles de Gaulle airport. An electrical storm had closed the airport and the story revolved around 11 travellers who’d passed on the paid hotel rooms and rode the storm out in a bar. My jaw hit the ground. This guy even described how difficult it was to write the third act, and by the dates he was giving it matched almost perfectly with the time I was writing…. The same story!

    Now, how on earth did that happen? He and I, on opposite sides of the planet, had the exact same idea at the exact same time. I truly hope I can get an explanation for that one day.

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