Failure, too, feels like this to me. Like the after taste of something decidedly unpleasant and foul. I imagine it to be a slow, faded path, traveling leisurely, unknown to its host. It erodes at my insides, carves a beaten path, and wriggles itself into a niche. A niche that will never be gone, forever imprinted on my soul and conscience. I have recently felt this, like a parasite inside of me. It feeds on my sadness, my hard work, and my heart-- leaving nothing but the ruins of my perseverance in return.
there are simply no lovely words. in fact, were i not now in a state of acceptance, i am sure i could think of some more words that are as blackened, disfigured, and as ugly as this feeling i feel now. to me, disappointment equals the loss of hard work, the loss of my sense of self and confidence. it means questioning who i am, should i be here, and ultimately- have i reached the end of my growth? is this my limit, my stopping point? can i push no further? have i reached my level of incompetence?
there are simply no lovely words. in fact, were i not now in a state of acceptance, i am sure i could think of some more words that are as blackened, disfigured, and as ugly as this feeling i feel now. to me, disappointment equals the loss of hard work, the loss of my sense of self and confidence. it means questioning who i am, should i be here, and ultimately- have i reached the end of my growth? is this my limit, my stopping point? can i push no further? have i reached my level of incompetence?
