running down the street naked

"If you run down the street naked every day, eventually people stop looking up." - Stevie Nicks on Christina Aguilera's hypersexual image.

Well, as it relates to me... I'm multi-talented, multi-colored. I'm a classically trained pianist, singer, recording artist, sometimes actor, pretty good dancer, I can rely on off-the-cuff wit if I have to do public speaking, I'm an above average attractive man, I'm intelligent, apart from this immodest self-praise I really am humble and often self-deprecating. Blah blah blah, blah blah blah. Who cares. Essentially, I've been running down the street naked every day for months upon months and I don't think people are looking anymore.

Those closest to me (who like me just because they do) have seen all of my colors, seen me wear every hat in my wardrobe, acknowledge that I'm pretty good and getting better, but I don't think they're impressed anymore. There's an established R&B singer who actively participates at my small 100-200 member church. When he first arrived, most people who know his face and voice from TV and radio were a little awed, a little distracted by his celebrity. Yet, he wasn't big headed or self-absorbed and quickly proved to everyone that he was just our brother when it all comes down to it. He's still a celebrity, but to us, he's just our brother.

Personally, I think it's really cool that he does that because everybody knows that he's a bonafide celebrity, but he wants to propagate that in relationship to God, he feels just as common and ordinary as any other regular person. I must be backwards, because I feel just as common and ordinary as any other person, and I desperately want people to think I'm "something special". Can I be anymore candid and sloppy pathetic than that?

Flipside is that not far from the front of my mind I know a lot of people do think I'm special. But truth be told, I am unimpressed with myself. I am so aware of how special I'm not, that I wonder how anyone else could miss it.

The upshot is that previously whenever I would go through periods of feeling like this, depression would accompany and I wouldn't be able to forge on and be functional. So perhaps I am slowly succeeding in my campaign to permanently get over myself, so close to shaking my dependent craving for attention and approval.

Who knows, you know? And I bet that as soon as I resign to put on some clothes and just walk down the street like a normal person, folks'll start looking up again. It figures. <:/