Underestimation

"All the world is a stage and the men and women merely players. They have their entrances and their exits, and one man, in his time, plays many parts."

- Shakespeare

I have never felt so free, so alive as when I throw my head back and open my voice up to the Universe. In the glory of sound and expression, like releasing a beast from its cage, my spirit unfetters itself from unhappiness and insecurity. I am at home in my body, I am at home in my self.

Halfway blinded by the obtuseness of my own shortcomings, I am painfully aware of my own fear. There is only myself in my way, only myself who anticipates the harsh reality of rejection as a pill too large and bitter to swallow. I hide behind my words, my pretty words that I pluck from my brain and twist into new shape have the pockmarked visage of trying far too hard.

I have little to say, little to say except that I'm confused. I'm not sure whether I should follow my head or pursue what I love, despite odds and doubtfulness. I hate this dilemma, this stupid dilemma that (one would think) we should have figured out by now.