feeling inadequate

i don’t know if i should term ambition as a boon or a bane.

somedays, it’s like fire, somedays it’s a wound. there’s always some version of me which is better, ahead of the current time, silent, disappointed, waiting for me to come to his position. but no matter, how far i run, he won’t clap, he will keep moving further away.

i fear being ordinary more than i fear failure. failure means that i tried to touch something that i can never do (for example, music). mediocrity is surrender, like i am making peace with a smaller life because the larger one was too hard to chase.

so i keep and will keep going, not because i am sure i am the best, because i am terrified i am not. every good thing, achievement is old news, the moment i touch it. every win is now an evidence that i must go higher.

maybe that is the curse of wanting more, but maybe it is the only reason i am still becoming.