Originality in Creativity

The idea that I have original ideas in my head has often bothered me. You see, mainly it has bothered me because it causes me to believe that I'm somehow required to have original ideas. I like having them. I enjoy being the source of things that no one has ever thought of. Also, I enjoy the ego boost. However, the problem with this line of thinking is that it gives me great fear. This fear involves being haunted by the possibility that something I've read or heard, seen or swallowed somehow will regurgitate back up and onto my work. My creativity is just bile. Why would I fear this? Well, I fear it because I don't like being dependent for one. I also don't like being accused of plagarism. Basically I don't like being lame. And copying someone else's awesomeness is just lame. Lame in the literal sense. I'm using them as a crutch so I can walk around and survive. Whenever this line of thinking finds me spiraling into self-analysis I have to remember, the words I'm using to express my thoughts weren't invented by me. The grammar I'm using to organize my words wasn't invented by me. The computer I'm using to type the grammar that's organizing the words, was not built or created by me. Finally, the brain I'm using to to make my fingers type (which are made of borrowed material from food my parents or I ate) was derived from the mind of God. I have no way of being original. My fear has no basis. I am derivative. Originality is a desire I can only fulfill by ignoring my nature. I'm completely a copy. Somehow, though, I'm not. I am an individual and that makes what I say, and how I say it, mine. When I spout forth creations, they are mine. This essay is mine even if it may resemble a thousand others. I wrote it. I mashed it on keys with my derivative fingers. I'm not required to have original ideas, I just will. Even though I'm a thing that has dependencies and borrow-cies, I make original things simply by making things. It's difficult to get past this analysis, but I plan on just doing it.