Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.
How original are YOU?
Influence, my dear friend, is just around the corner. If Life is a story, then you as a character are constantly being shaped. We are not complete. We are not absolute. And we are not original.
You took certain tutorial classes in your primary high school because you were suggested so. You were tempted to try a particular chocolate because your friends told you how delicious it is. Yes, you did experiment yourself many times. But not always. The choice for professional career that you made was, in fact, influenced by someone or something at some point in your life. Some of these influences are the ones you are aware of. But many of these are taken in by your subconscious. And those are the one that scare me.
Think about it. The stuff that you wear, the stuff that you eat, and the stuff where you shit. It’s all some influence-suggestion-temptation by someone or something. Even the most experimental moments in your life can be influenced by the people you idolize. I’m not talking about a particular person’s influence. I’m talking about everything. The ambition, the heartbreak, the passion, the happy place–everything is constantly shaping your life and your actions. Your art, your interests, your writing, your perception–everything is a product of something non-original. It is a constant, never-ending process. Even the coffin or the urn where you would rest after dying would be a suggestion of some funeral home. The model of computer or mobile on which you are reading this post on, decision of owning that model was also influenced in some way. This subconscious influence has infested every bit of yourself, like it or not.
Well, then it begs for a question. How important is originality anyway? Maybe it is over-rated. Maybe we are meant to be this way. I ask myself, what would ‘original’ myself be like? Or rather, what if I had met different kinds of people in my life, completely different from the ones I’m with right now, how would that person behave? How would that person talk? What his ambitions would be? What would be his favorite music? Who would be his favorite author? I’m pretty sure that the answers would be quite polarizing from the ones that I have right now. And it kind of scares me. This feeling that I’m not absolute myself. There are billions of versions of me out there. And none of them is an original human-being. You and I are not original.
We are a copy of a copy of a copy.