In my mind I could do anything.
In reality, there's so much thing
I couldn't do. Some of it might even could never be done.
Some years ago, I'd make targets
and lists. Tons of them. Taking advantages of being young and safe inside my
parents' bubble of comfort. It was the time when you dare to dream.
If you work hard, you'll succeed.
Then I had to tear up the bubble
and get out, take a sip of the real world.
Just a teaspoon, not the whole
cup.
I thought I work hard.
But then I failed.
And failed.
It's been sometimes since I put
down the targets, lists and plans.
Yet, some of those remain in the
subconscious, build up expectations. Again.
I told myself hundreds times, not
to. Yet, there still is.
I hate being disappointed. I
thought I've been disappointed enough. Yet, there seems to be much more
disappointments to come.
I'm affraid of tomorrow.
When I should take the whole cup,
in one shot. When even what's left from my dreams would seem larger than the
reality.
I'm excited about tomorrow.
I want to see what it will become
of me: struggling and succeed like normal people; being finally able to provide
the comfort bubble for those, who once built it for me.
And at the same time, build a new
bubble for myself too.
Because I need that. Desperately.
Now I'm trying to do my best and
if I fail again, maybe it's just not the time yet.
HE knows better.
