#11 – Like Shit

Nothing’s ever good enough
Not, at least, to the standard that exists in my mind as it relates to my pursuits
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Why is it that I cannot say I have done something that I’m supremely proud of?
That there wasn’t anything else to be done, to be improved or perfected
Is there anything I really want to perfect?
Do I want to be the best at anything or does the thought that there will always be someone else better block the road of Even-Trying?
God, do you have a plan?
Did you, and now do you not, or do you still?
Why am I kept in the dark like something that don’t want seen?
Like unmentionables and dirty clothes
Are you supremely proud of me? Or, to put it another way that is more centered on you, are you proud of your work, of your creation as though a painting or song?
Do you want to set it on display, or to have a mass of thirty-seven thousand sing in three to five part harmony?
Or simply in unison?
Am I on display in your private parlor only for you?
Is that enough for me?
Why am I so arrogant?
That nothing is good enough for me?
That I deserve a very elevated position in life
I’m sick of feeling this way, how can I be humble?
God, I’m sick of feeling like shit
I need your help
What else can I say?

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