Each and everytime the impulse to write starts gnawing at me .... I get the
urge to partake in some mindless activity.
Sooooo..... This time I will fight the urge to turn on the television and
write to you instead.
I think that a big part of why I don't write is a deep-rooted fear of
failure. If it's not good, why waste the effort?
This same train of thought has kept me from countless worthwhile endeavors.
No sense in going to the concert.... I probably won't get a good seat. Same
with the movies. Birthday presents from years passed sit in the corner,
un-used... Am I not worthy? Or perhaps it's a fear that I'll be responsible
for deriving some sort of joy, or happiness, out of them? Why do I have such
a hard time engaging in activities deemed enjoyable by others? Is my
drummer's drumming that different?
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