Feeling undeserving of all these precious things I have.
I am spurred to question where such useless emotions draw their energy from.
What does it mean to be deserving?
One must be worthy.
What does it mean to be worthy?
One must have value.
What is value?
Value is importance.
And what may importance be measured by?
Why, how useful you are.
What is being useful?
Bettering all.
What is bettering?
Improvement, efficiency.
All I'm looking for is efficiency.
With efficiency, I wouldn't have to worry that I'm wasting my time with such frivolous things. My mind can rest easy with the reassurance that my present actions will benefit my future. That I feel centered inside, knowing that I hold a place in this world.
"Stop playing guitar you stupid boy, and get to researching the Stock Market." Says the Crimson voice.
"Quit dreaming about your films, you'll never follow through." Says it.
"You don't need a video game, you'll waste your time."
"Why did you spend $250 on that guitar? You don't need it."
"Why are you reading a novel? You've better things to do."
"Facebook, is a waste of time. Painting your room is a waste of time. Downloading music is a waste of time. You need to concentrate on what's good for you."
My wall of confidence is continually under siege by my own back-water alias. I'm slowly decaying under questionable doubt of importance, worth, place.
Oh, how I'll remember these days; where I still questioned my footing on this beautiful planet.
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