There are so many things I want to do before I die. And it’s hard to be patient. But I’m trying to trust the process.
I think I overthink. No, I know I do. I make everything more complicated than it needs to be, which is exhausting.
I’ll do better. I will do my best.
I can’t be anyone else. I can only be myself. Sometimes I feel like an imposter. Who am I to write, to create?
I tend to elevate others and downplay my own abilities. So in my mind, everyone is better than me. On bad days, I wonder why even try if I’ll never be good enough? Why bother in the first place?
Life is too short. I used to be afraid of dying. But right now, I’m scared I’m not living up to my full potential. I need to face my own fears. It’s fine to fail. To be ignored or rejected.
I wish I didn’t take things too personally. I should grow a thicker layer of skin.
I don’t have any major regrets though. I wouldn’t change my choices. Still, I’ll continue to grow. I want to focus on improving myself.
It’s not always how you start but how you finish, right?