My God…
I just realized. I’m absolutely terrified.
I don’t know, maybe I never really had any confidence, but man… I just started feeling it today. Maybe it’s nervousness, maybe it’s the fact that it’s my own material, but really. I am scared. Scared of not knowing what I’m going to do with these poems and trying to work on them and working to be criticized and shot down and told that they’re not good enough (or that maybe they are and I’m just fooling myself) Scared that I haven’t been able to write well for a while and that I’m getting back into it and I don’t know where I’m at. Why can’t I be fluid? Loose? Free? Where was I back then when I wrote these beautiful things? Where am I now? That seems so petty to say. Gah. Stupid insecurity.
Maybe it’s really the fear that what I want to be isn’t what I’m living up to.
I just realized. I’m absolutely terrified.
I don’t know, maybe I never really had any confidence, but man… I just started feeling it today. Maybe it’s nervousness, maybe it’s the fact that it’s my own material, but really. I am scared. Scared of not knowing what I’m going to do with these poems and trying to work on them and working to be criticized and shot down and told that they’re not good enough (or that maybe they are and I’m just fooling myself) Scared that I haven’t been able to write well for a while and that I’m getting back into it and I don’t know where I’m at. Why can’t I be fluid? Loose? Free? Where was I back then when I wrote these beautiful things? Where am I now? That seems so petty to say. Gah. Stupid insecurity.
Maybe it’s really the fear that what I want to be isn’t what I’m living up to.