No, I mean wanting to be the best.
I know it's stupid and egotistical and stuff, but it's the one thing I had going for me. It's the one thing I had to aim towards. I can't draw amazingly like other people, I can't sing, I can't dance...all I can do is write. Without that, well, what do I have to strive towards? I don't show people my poetry in real life because most people don't understand it and I feel like a pretentious worm...I only show it here because I feel people can understand it better. It's not just a hobby, it's an outlet for my feelings. Sometimes it's the only thing that helps me not crawl into the corner and just cry in frustration. Besides that, I can't stand being part of the crowd. I want to stand out and make myself known in a unique way. I can't do that in real life because I'm restrained and people make fun of and bully me for it, so I have to do it here, online. I've never really been known for anything before, and if I could be known and remember as being that one really great writer, well, that would make me happy beyond words.
I feel like I've betrayed myself. I made a promise to myself that I would always follow my dreams and never give up hope, just like my avatar character would do. I made him not just because I wanted a powerful hero to star in my stories, but because he represents everything I wish I was but that I'm either too weak or scared or pathetic to become. I promised myself I would never give into despair and that I wouldn't let other people get to me, but look at me now. I feel empty inside over something as trivial as a little healthy competition. I feel stupid and whiny and selfish and disgusting, and I feel like I've betrayed my own ideals and done myself a massive injustice. I wish I was more like Lucky Starlight or Bon Jovi, somebody who doesn't let stuff like this bother him and who overcomes their personal demons and makes themselves known. But I'm just some guy who fancies himself a writer, and it's moments like that that really drag me down. Realising that I've forsaken my ideals more than I'd like to admit makes me feel empty and horrid inside. It's times like these I just want to break down and cry I know I can't win everything, and I accept that. I don't want to win everything. I just want to be known for something, but maybe that's just me being a selfish, greedy little fuckstart again.
And in the morning I'll feel fine again and forget about all of this [parasitic bomb] until it comes back to bite me in the ass again. Sometimes I wonder what I even bother for. Then I remember why. And then I forget again. It's a viscious cycle of idealistic dream-pursuing and being dragged back down to earth again, and sometimes I feel like hope itself has betrayed me.
"Hell would be easy if not for hope."