June 11. You are frightened by the thought of everything turning to shit, everything you've built crashing and burning, ruined by incorruptible, un-negotiable chance.
You have told yourself countless times before that this is what you wanted, but it looked so much more appealing from afar. Up close, you start to see cracks that weren't there before, flaws that cannot be denied, holes that cannot be filled.
I guess this is the punchline to a joke fate has been waiting to tell. In retrospect, the cruel irony in it seems so clear that you're confused as to why you didn't see it before.
Maybe this is the test. Diamonds are formed by pressure, and maybe this is your pressure. Or maybe this is just a warm-up, and the storm is way worse.
You can feel your hope slowly start to fade. You can almost see your motivation flickering away, burning out before it ever got a chance to see the light of day.
You see your future laid out in front of you like blueprints, and the remnants of your past scattered on the floor, collecting dust and regret.
Please, please, please. Do not give up before you even get the chance to start. Find your core and center everything on that. Rise up and deliver.
