Sunday, March 18, 2012
The Monsters In My Closet
I fear death. I fear the day I'm lying on the ground, saying my last words, taking my last breath. Or is that just in the movies? I fear my life will turn out like the movies. That my life is just a plot intended to be Someones brief Entertainment, only to have a "happy" end. I'm afraid that all my hard work will amount to nothing. That after all I've done for You, I'll only be called a friend. I'm afraid that there Is an end. That one day I will lose all I have. I'm afraid of falling backwards, hands groping, but nothing to grab. I'm afraid that if I give my heart away, I'll get stabbed. . . again. I fear knowledge. I fear knowing I wasn't good enough to get it right. I fear my writing will be light. I want my writing to be heavy. I want my writing to leave an impression on another life. I'm afraid of getting what I want. Afraid that if I get everything I want, I will forget how to dream. And I don't want to forget. Not about You.
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"I fear my writing will be light." I have this same fear. I wish more people had this same fear. Because fear sometimes is a great motivator for success. (did I just say that? I don't even know what that means?)
ReplyDeleteAnyway. That was one of the realest things I've read this morning.
Great job. I loved this, as always. But I do want to say one thing - when you are falling backwards, hands groping with nothing to grab, I hope I can be the friend that is there to reach forward and grab you.
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