It’s the pressure in my chest, I can’t release. Looking forward while everyone leaps.
What does the meaning of success bring, when you can’t sleep. I’m looking into a future of anxiety that can’t compete.
Am I sure I want to give this my all? Keeping life in the moments of success while others are enjoying their defeats…struggle for accomplishments that don’t embrace. Why now, I can’t write. I wanted to for so long. Now I have the few moments to shout, to sleep … and I’m stuck with notes that don’t beat.
Times like this keep me inside. Inside is a place that is covered in responsibility. That what? I must repeat until more is too much? Much is overloaded, and then what? I’m finished.
I don’t even know what I am trying to get out. I don’t know where I am. Where this is supposed to be. What happens now. Who takes this on?
It’s the onlookers. They watch, and judge and they find ways to grunt your outs. There is no out to search for; it’s only creating more ways to succeed. That’s why I am here. I’m no ones’ out; I’m no one’s excuse. I’m just here for proof. For integrity. For myself.
That’s not to say, I’m not doing this for someone else. I’m scared this is going to take a lifetime to complete, nervous for the next step. Sometimes I want to go back. When things didn’t matter. When time was plentiful.
Maybe I am the onlooker. Jealous of them. Jealous of their courage. Or wrecked at the thought that I can’t stop. Because if I do, I don’t know where to go.
Bouncing from thought to thought doesn't explain who I am. I’m not trying to, because then I would have answers. Who wants answers to that…then you will always be stuck with them. I don’t want to become stuck with one purpose. I want millions. I want to have ways to escape into a different world and not have to face the consequences. If I am answered, then I have nothing to look forward to.
Reading it out loud is horrifying. Sounds like blue is pouring out. But I thought it was going to be motivational. Keep the forward steps out. Or what if I am pressuring myself to stay back. I know this can’t be right, because I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be shaking, I wouldn't be afraid.
Time is contiguous. It’s trapped the world inside milestones. Not counting those moments when time escapes you. When you find out that time is the only thing pushing you. You have to finish in time, because you don’t know how much you have. Making us feel like we need to jump into a world and fast track where we didn't take the chance. But chance is only that moment in time when you had to make a choice and you couldn't decide. What will be the best for you? What will make your life special?
Special is that moment in your life that you become who you are based from someone else’s. That moment has happened but that doesn't mean it defines the contour of where I stand.
For brief instance, I thought this was gone. Not life, but that thing you keep trying to find. I searched everywhere for it, I was going to start ramping off into an oblivion. But there is such a thing call autorecovery.
