Choose love?

"I can't express myself coherently enough. I'm told I have talent, potential, brains, nonsense! There will always be somebody better than me, somebody more coherent, someone deeper, more talented, more of whatever I could hope to be. How do you come to terms with it? How do you deal with the fact, that you are a constant disappointment to your standards and expectations? You can dress it up in fancy words and lowering the bar until it skims the ground, but the truth is this: I will always fall short, because I choose it to be that way. I'm a self-defeating prophecy. I don't want to be the best, but at the same time, it's all I strive for. I guess I revel in the bitter satisfaction of failure, when if all honesty, I'm not failing anything. I make good waste of my time acting like I'm such a sorry excuse for a friend, a daughter, a student, an artist, a human being. I can hardly handle my inconsistencies. Is that just my nature? Or am I just over-estimating my worth as an intellectual? Human? Sentient string of organs and digits? I feel bound to some unspoken duty that the four walls of my body can't perform. I'm a paradox of myself, I contradict my personality with my actions, my actions with my thoughts, and my thoughts with my feelings. A path to no where, ends up with an empty face staring in an empty mirror. Why is there something instead of nothing, huh? Maybe everything is the nothing, and we're unknowingly rambling on about our lives, while the "empty" space is the invisible something. Maybe everything is something. Maybe nothing is everything. I hate possibilities! I want certainties! I want to know the question, the answer, and all the in between synapses that were fired. I want to make sure that I'm really conscious. I want too many things, most of which are intangible. I think what I really want, is to take a nap outside in an open field, with another human being, and let myself be smothered by the silence and omnipotence of the stars."

Foi alguém que escreveu. Alguém. Teria todo o gosto em atribuir os devidos direitos, mas... É anónimo. Pelo menos, para mim. Um anónimo que com certeza não queria ser ouvido por outro alguém conhecido. Encontrei-a aqui. É interessante a ideia.