self construction,

(5 edits)

is this what i need?

to know what i want to be and what it takes to be that? do i already know? do i need to write it down? do i NEED to do anything. no. yes.

should i take a break??? maybe.

i wanna be… the very best.. that no one ever was.

i have to unlock that i think, through belief? no, comparison. i’ve done enough absorbing. seeing bits and pieces of myself in others. why not be the full package? why not be the kaleidoscope? the full range of the the visible light spectrum. why not be every woman? the first woman that ever was.

hard and soft. strong and fragile. beautiful and damning.

i think i already i am, i think i know she’s meant to be.

is it that we need to merge? do i need to see her more clearly? or do i just step into her shoes some how? when does the second guessing shut down? the rumination turn off?

when will i feel like her?

is this what feeling like her is like? do i assume that being her means never feeling without?

or maybe i question so much that the ratio to belief and disbelief is off. maybe that’s the proof that im not there yet… though shes right here. because she is me.

so how do i step in? do i need to take a “break?”

is a “break” just cope? can i do it all? what is the all that i need to be doing?

do i have the work ethic? or am i really just a bundle of questions?

do i really even know her? i mean have i really thought her out? in all of her entirety? do i need to? think her all out to be her?

i think she’s rough around the edges. a handmade craft in my mind. i’m building the self. i love it so. it’s fun because i know how good she’ll be when im done with her.

i’m good with these kinds of things. final projects. the kind that you sit with for a while, put down, then pick back up again.

the problem with final projects though is that they happen in the back-end. you exert, you toil, and it’s done. you don’t have to put on a show. there is no audience to please.

that’s how this is different. that’s what i’m missing. she’s missing. i think.

maybe i let the numbers judge for me too much. i let the audience tell me how good i am at performing a self.

what i think is that they can tell. i’m performing something that’s meant to be lived in, a flow that no one is taught but everyone recognizes. there’s this continuity. frictionless. it comes from repetition. it’s cultivated in youth.

they have it i don’t.

that’s what i think. i think i yearn to preform. i like the meticulous nature of it. all the while i crave “authenticity.” not knowing what it is.

i wonder if it’s still possible?, in 2026, to be the greatest. admist the algorithms and palantir of it all. would they let me? do i need their permission?

it feels like i’ve shown my hand. and i’m bluffing. i’m bluffing so hard. hoping for a chance. hoping for a win. begging for a win. like it’s something i don’t deserve. like i’m a tenant who’s rent is 2 months past.

it’s like i’m pushing all the air out of my lungs as i scramble to the line, leaping toward December unabashed, praying it brings waves of flourishing and success i’ve never known before. running off fumes that you lot can all smell.

i’m shameless in my pursuit. i have no embarrassment to spend on my hunger. it’s all been wasted on 2023. now im just a beggar, hoping to swoon you like the Wolf of Wall Street with the charm i just barely have left. I’ve been cranking it out like mario does those coins. i think the rivers running dry.

that’s what i tell myself.

how do i judge this greatness? how can i tell its time? my time? is this greed? is this the capitalism in me? i never check my bank account.

i think its more than that. i want to be safe. and for some reason, i think that safety lies behind ur eyes. it’s the nod of your head. in your confirmation. that’s my truth. that’s my purpose. that’s my task. that’s what i tell myself.

that’s how i know im not there yet. i dont know. i think. i think i need to be better. think better. i need that fundamental sense of lack to go away. i think im scared that if i really do (break away from fear) that maybe nothing lies on the other side. only a false sense of security i taught myself. for what? for NOTHING. the horror!!!

how do i be better? how do i fix my diseased mind? i think to be the best i have think the best so i can create the best. but if what i do must be so great how will i know where to start? i just.. do? i just. do.

no distractions. no comparison. no milestones or plans of action.

you just do.