Time to time, now and again...

Every now and then certain emotions linger in my subconscious mind. They suddenly spew out, and remind me of certain fears that linger deep below my skins surface. A place where the heart cannot see, and my mind cannot touch. A sense of absence from reality, and rather peculiar situation that terrifies me.

My thoughts. They drift into a vast see of inadequate dreams. I suddenly get scared. I realize that I have fears. That no matter how good things are, the reality is that my fears haunt my existence, and ultimately do take a piece of my soul slowly but surely. I'm terririfed of failure. I know it all to well. I see it come and go. It happens next door to me, the house in front of me, skips my house, and heads over to the other side of me. Yet I know that one day it's going to come knocking at my door one of these days. I don't want to be insufficient. I do not want to have to rely on people. I want to be on my own, and begin a new life without the everyday struggle to fit-in, and accomdate my schedule to convenience anyone but myself. I forget that.

I look back and reminisce on the times where things were terrible. When they were great. When they were regretful, and also unforgettable. I'm scared. I don't like talking about it. I cry at night when the urge arises, and my heart aches because I know that it's something that I cannot control. I often times find myself asking what the point to all of this is. Why the pain? The torture. The lack of inspiration which my great-grandmother so heavily bestowed upon. Then it hits me. She made me forget my fears. I look back and think about her. Holding me on her lap reading me my childhood stories. Caressing my hair, and never screaming at me. She would simply say, "Please stop", and I stopped on a dime.

People forget that we ALL have fears. Whether it be our inadquacies, or our biggest nightmares. They live on. They grow inside us like trees without stopping until we see how big it is, and decide to chainsaw it down. Only to realize that a cut tree is still alive, and can continue to grow. So why tear it down? Why not make it a part of the landscape, and accomodate your life around it? Why not say "Fuck it" and move on? I am trying it, but it's hard. Harder than I thought. Still I have to do it. I don't want to wake up one day, and say, "Shit, What if I would have done this differently?". My great-grandmother once told me, that I was destined for great things, and that I will make her proud. I'm not letting you down grandma. Not in this lifetime, and certainly not without a fight. People need to realize that no matter how bad you have it someone still has it worse than you. I understand that. Now grow a pair. Admit your faults, and try to overcome your fears. I did. I overcame the fear of being inadeduate, and you know how? By making a commitment to myself that I will live for someone other than myself. Someone who believed in me before I could believe in myself. I miss you grandma. This ones for you...