I really hate myself sometimes you know? I’m a coward. And as much as I regret this, I know this. I never go outside of my bubble if I don’t want to, I never take a risk. I throw myself into stupid things, do reckless things but there’s more to courage than that. There’s determination, perseverance and sucking it up for once in your life and doing what can be done if you try. I don’t try, as in, at all so things pass me by, opportunities wane and disappear and my life develops into one continuous line of boring, linear, normality. (And it’s all my fault of course, so I can’t complain, but I do anyway because. Well, frankly, I’m a whiner at heart so there’s not much else I can do.)
And when faced with an opportunity, something will go wrong, horribly wrong but completely out of my control. But I have the chance to take it. But I won’t because I’m a coward and a pessimist and all I can think about is how wrong it went or how wrong it could go, and I back down. Run away and hide and bury myself in a hole. And wait there until its all over and let beat myself up over something that will probably never change. I’m me after all and being a coward is just part of who I am I suppose.
