Reflecting

It's not that I am suppressed, confined, or at a stand still. I am used to it. I eat, sleep, and breathe with it. It's my fuel. I am happy to have it. If I didn't, I would be even more useless.

I like how it is so near, and so insignificant, like: scrunched jean pockets; a scuffed cell phone case; the white film on your tongue in the morning.

The only downfall: writing and publishing, for some reason it will not give me the green light - I don't even know how to get the "go ahead". BA? The quieting of my mind? The quelling of my soul? I have no idea....

Anyway, it is such a powerful ideal from every and any day and age. Everyone has their own definition and agony with it. I share the pros and cons, too. It is very stifling at times, but I feel that it is necessary - just like dying.

Fear of Failure.