I have an unabating disdain for failure.
To spend so much unnecessary time—so many precious hours or even days of my fleeting life just to trip over the finish line. A failure to produce results after countless efforts. An incredible sum of courage and spirit consumed by an inescapable, inevitable void of pain. Every single failure is one more setback that I have only myself to blame for.
I’ve realized just how important time is. Any scrap of time that I can salvage is a resource that I can apply to the fleeting life I hold dear, allowing me more action—more freedom of my life that I can feel and take hold of. And to spend so much time—so much important, important time—working towards that freedom for it to be removed is soul crushing.
Everytime I fail I have the unquenchable urge to try again. Everytime I push once more past the failure and try to salvage the precious time I had spent. I gather up the shards of my mistake and push them together in an effort to hold something in my shaking, beaten hands. I beat my head against the wall, punching and kicking in a futile attempt to break it down and push through.
Every time, I fail.
I fall down to my knees, confronted with the fact that my time was wasted. I clench my tired hands and scream into a void of pain, piled high with the failures I can’t mend—the embodiment of the time wasted, never to return. The pile of mistakes extends to the heavens, and as I reach ever closer to the void I fail to fathom how deep it goes.
The sands of time I had piled up to collect fall through my feeble hands and disappear unknowingly into the abyss I stand above. Another pile of trash to add to my past—an endless void full of failures and mistakes. Nothing to salvage, nothing to save, nothing to achieve. An endless nothingness. An insurmountable and overwhelming empty void.
Yet despite it all, in face of constant never ending failure,
I reach out towards the light that shines bright against the abyss.
Deterred, unmotivated, crushed, uninspired,
I stand once more and trek through the hellish landscape in my mind.
With a neverending spark within my soul, I extend myself towards a fleeting dream impossibly far away, yet close enough to feel within my broken fingers. I stretch out my arm as a feeble yet noble attempt to close the gap that spans past the void around me. I reach out because I know that the light beyond the walls exists. Unlike the void that surrounds my mind, I reach out to a dream that’s within my grasp.
The eternal nonexistent fight within my mind wages constantly.
Yet I shall stand one more.