I got to thinking about being special. We grow up learning that we’re special. We’re unique. There’s no one else out there like us. Then we learn that that really just means we’re like everyone else. Isn’t everyone special, we think. We get complacent, we don’t fight for the things we really want… the things that actually make us special. We conform and act like the non-special adults who comply and never ask for more. But why? Where does that get us? A boring life we’re not impressed with? Does thinking we’re special really vilify us? Why can’t we think we’re special?

So I ask: Are you not an adult if you think you’re special? Are you a selfish child who thinks the world should be handed to him/her if you think this? Or, are you just working toward something that you consider tougher, more rewarding, and when you get it, you think that you’re special? You got everything you ever wanted… because you’re special, and also, lets be honest, quite hardworking and devoted. I choose to believe the latter.

I think I’m special. I am hardworking and devoted to my craft. I have to believe that I am special. It’s what gets me through life. And maybe that makes me less of an adult. But, honestly, I couldn’t care less. Be you. Be special, and achieve those things only “special” people can.