On occasion, you find yourself in perfect awareness of who you are. You catch your own reflection and see for just an instant who you are, who you represent, who you've developed into. Is it right? Is it what you hoped for?
No matter. Nobody knows you as well as you do. You're utterly aware of how much you've lived up to your own expectations, never mind others expectations of you. You're a sum of your own experiences, and boy howdy do you know it.
You know your potential. You've been hearing about it since you were a chiild. You've had daydreams which encompassed all you could be and more. Sadly, your final analysis includes the very same criteria you've been measuring yourself up against - regardless of it's veracity.
You're lazy. You want the hot chick, or the hot guy. You would have shown everyone if only that one moment had been different. People don't want to hear the truth. People don't like the unusual. Nobody understands you.
But if you look at the edges, you'll see those claws, the same claws that have been haunting you since you became aware of your own unique, magical self. The claws of fear and doubt, attached by taut and terrible sinew to the infernal beast of blind self-judgement. Those claws draw blood, oh and what blood they spill.
Your screams are it's inhalation, and your struggles are its nervous twitches. It loves you with more intimacy than your closest lover and costs far more.
Posted by Matt at January 12, 2004 01:30 AM