A fear that haunts me: I am letting my glory days pass me by as moments straddled between Netflix and self-doubt. It seems I so often lack the courage to gather my tools and build something out of myself. I am unhappy, but content. To live among the shadows hurts, but this initial pain makes it worth avoiding the sting of the light. Something I've come to believe is the fact that some people are born with It. The It - charisma, talent, humor, attraction - whatever the positive quality, it combines with one part charm and another part luck. And a star is born. But this notion is tragic. And, admittedly, quite sad. Especially on the days when I count myself outside the circle of those who possess It. The truth of the matter is not that a handful have It, but that It is contained within 100% of all living, breathing cases. To varied, unlocked degrees. Sometime after my muse passes and the words empty themselves out, I will long for It. Emotional beings such as myself seem...
Authenticity is attractive.