The Problem

Every day I’m running, running, I’m running,
Outrunning the moment when the world catches up
To the truth of my accomplishments
To the pain of my lucky endeavors
To the realization that I have
No
Idea
What I am doing
Ever.

My constant dream, I’m running, and working
And hiding
And some day someone I love will
Rip
The curtain away, and behind it there will only be
Me.

I know I know I know that I know
Some things
I think I have achieved, accomplished, succeeded
But I do not
Believe.

They say there’s a
Syndrome
I just think it’s the painful blister of
An overexamined life
The rubbing and buffing and grinding down
Of each and every event and intention
Until rubbed raw it bleeds and the
Shine
Is worn
Off.

I know I am not alone
Not accurate
Not incompetent
Because I know that YOU are
Not
You all have told me, some of you, of similar
Dreams
Of similar fears that some day someone will inevitably
Catch you
And show the world that you never really knew
Anything
I’ve been there brother
Inadequate
Incompetent
Unattractive
Afraid
Feeling phony
Impostor
Just a step ahead of being shown a fool

Unlovable.

It’s a lie, I know because I know
It’s not you
And you feel it too
So it must be my
Lie
Too.

But perhaps as lies go it is somehow
Useful
For me, at least
It drives me
It haunts me
It pushes me
It chases me
To dream
Big, good dreams
To
Try

I’m running, running, I’m running and running
Hoping I don’t get caught
Pushing myself to stay a step away from
Disappointment
Disillusionment
Letting you down
And in the meantime I’m
Covering a ton of distance.

Behind every ego there is fear.
Behind every fear there is ego.

 

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