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10:58 PM . 30 May 2012

Dear Young Eccentric,

We humans are conformist — we typically prefer folks who fall in the middle of distributions, and avoid those from the tails. Yes, we prefer the high tail of health, beauty, intelligence, etc. But for most other traits, we prefer the ordinary.

This situation can seem pretty discouraging to those who find that they are naturally weird. Weird folks are often tempted to give up on grand ambitions, thinking there is little chance the world will let them succeed. Turns out, however, it isn’t as bad as all that. Especially if your main weirdness is in the realm of ideas.

First, being unusual can be an advantage. Unusual tastes can often be satisfied for cheaper than common tastes. If everyone wants to go to the beach, but you just want to hike in the woods, it won’t cost you as much for a nearby hotel. Unusual abilities can also be in more demand than usual abilities. And weird folks can be especially creative, a trait valued in certain occupations like marketing or research.

Second, people who are weird about ideas tend to care more about ideas, and so over-estimate how much others care. You can actually get away with a lot of weirdness in abstract ideas, if you are ordinary enough in manners and style.

I’ve known some very successful people with quite weird ideas. But these folks mostly keep regular schedules of sleep and bathing. Their dress and hairstyles are modest, they show up on time for meetings, and they finish assignments by deadline. They are willing to pay dues and work on what others think are important for a while, and they have many odd ideas they’d pursue if given a chance, instead of just one overwhelming obsession. They are willing to keep changing fields, careers, and jobs until they find one that works for them.

Their conversational styles are also modest and polite. While they are quite willing to talk about their weird ideas, they do not push such topics on uninterested others. They do not insult people around them, nor directly challenge local powers that be. They don’t lash out randomly and scare people.

Of course being modest isn’t enough for great success. You’ll also need some extraordinary abilities. Like being extra smart, articulate, hard-working, insightful, etc. But having weird ideas isn’t nearly as much of a liability as it may seem.

Think of it this way. When some folks go out of their way to show off their defiance and rebellion, others go out of their way to publicly squash such rebellion, to assert their dominance. But if you are not overtly rebellious, you can get away with a lot of abstract idea rebellion — few folks will even notice such deviations, and fewer still will care. So, ask yourself, do you want to look like a rebel, or do you want to be a rebel?

(Source: overcomingbias.com)

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12:46 AM . 30 May 2012
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12:46 AM . 30 May 2012
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12:46 AM . 30 May 2012
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12:46 AM . 30 May 2012
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12:43 AM . 30 May 2012
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11:51 PM . 29 May 2012

Random Things

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12:31 PM . 29 May 2012
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11:01 AM . 29 May 2012
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11:01 AM . 29 May 2012
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11:00 AM . 29 May 2012
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10:41 AM . 29 May 2012
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01:32 AM . 29 May 2012
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01:32 AM . 29 May 2012

The first thing I take note of is that I am laying on my stomach, sprawled on whatever surface I am on like a child. My short hair is damp, and the surface on which I am laying on is rough and cold as ice. It appears as though I’ve fallen.

I do not know where I am.

I look up and blink; it appears as though there are two ups, for some reason. At least, I myself can see two ups. The first layer of up is a large expanse of brown and green and red. It frightens me; I don’t understand what I am seeing. The second up is more comforting, more familiar, for some reason. There are countless clouds scattered in the second up, all with rays of light shining on them, looking glorious and soft and homey.

Once I’ve pried my eyes from the sights above me, I take note of my surroundings. There is only white as far as the eye can see, pure, untainted white. I am not alone, though— there is a speck nearby, coming closer. The said speck has wings, wide, wide wings. They are speckled, white dots on an otherwise pure black surface. The person, the thing with wings, meanwhile, has short black hair.  Those are the only features I can comprehend from afar.

I then take a look at myself: from what I can see, I have hair the color of gold, of the sun, and wings. A pair of golden wings with black and white spots. Curious, I thought, and poked one. It felt strange, as if I was poking something that was and wasn’t me at the same time. I frown and shrug, walking towards the other creature in this white blank space.

The other thing with wings, I realize now, is male, just like me. He appears to be the same height as I am, and the same wingspan, yet older. He looks more worn out, more aged than myself.

“What do I do?” I decide to ask him, tilting my head.
“You create your realm. Everything here is yours; it is up to you how you create it.”
“But why? What am I? And why are we alone?”
“Those will be answered later. For now, create, little star.”

I nod and turn around, but—

“How do I create?”
“You simply will things to be like so, child. Have faith in your abilities and let go.”

I close my eyes and start imagining scenes I’d seen in another life. I recreate forests and seas, little towns and wide fields. Bridges, roads, looming buildings of every color imaginable. Houses, of course, for the people who will live here. Mountains, lakes, hills, and more forests.

After that, I start imagining animals I’d never seen before. Huge turtles with wings, white bears with six limbs, cats with three eyes, wolves bigger and stronger than normal. Fish that swim in air, frogs that croak out classical music, orange penguins, fluffy, fuzzy snakes, foxes who can talk, owls who can disappear at will, plants with minds of their own, and more. When I open my eyes, everything I thought of came true, just as the stranger had said. I created a world of my own… and yet.

“Little star, you’ve done enough today. This is all excellent, excellent.”
“What about inhabitants, though? People like us?”
“Don’t worry. People will come in their own time. For now, you create anything your heart desires, and I watch you.”
“Who are you, though? And what?”
“You may simply call me Gray Garroway, little star. And I’m like you, of course.”
“What… What are we?”
“We’re called Lucian, Lucifer Morningstar.” 

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01:32 AM . 29 May 2012