I'm going to confess something here. Something very private that I never about to anybody. The truth is that I feel, most of the time, that I'm a complete and utter failure.
Nothing I have done has meant anything. Nothing has ever truly met my expectations. There have been times that this feeling has led to being deeply despondent, feeling alone, and, honestly, suicidal.
I feel...no, I know in the deepest parts of me, what I'm capable of. What my talents are. Yet, I've failed. I've allowed my own sense of needing to hone my creative craft keep me forever in that stage, never stepping out, toe to toe with others and fighting in the marketplace.
I've had friends, enemies, acquaintances, hell - even my own brother surpass me in artistic and professional accomplishments. For years now, I've watched them, truly happy for what they've done. I've experienced things, sure. But I've led a relatively unassuming life, spending my days among many who never engage into doing the work that I have done. Going to the dark places that I have traveled to be able to do it.
But through it all, I've been silently working. Developing. Allowing this fragile heart of mine to being rock solid against the resistance. My spirit gets stronger and stronger...more resilient, more focus, more primal. Now, instead of deep depression, I feel like a beast in a cage.
Now, many of those doubt me. They don't speak it, but they do. I can see in their eyes. I can taste it in the air. That's fine. Let 'em doubt me.
All of my work has been leading up to what is coming next over the next few years. I've kept almost all of it hidden, tucked away. But the work itself has given me this confidence, not delusion, not false pride. WORK. Building on talent. The talent was not my responsibility or my doing...but the work is. Let em' doubt me.
I'm ready. Let's do this.