Sometimes, I’m simply afraid to try, and I get depressed and down on myself over it. ‘Cause, I mean, what if I tried so much and so well that I received good news 24/7? And that good news kept turning into more and more good news which eventually turned into great news then terrific news then extremely excellent news and I became so fulfilled and overcome with happiness and joy and joyness that all that fantastic chasm of super amazing fantabuexpealidocious news caused my head to explode and depart from my body and skyrocket to a completely different planet precisely three solar systems away at the speed of light and relocate to an alien planet called MediocreNewsieAhh where it would stay until I calmed the hell down which would probably never ever ever BE!?!?
Yeah, that’s why I’m afraid to try sometimes.
I don’t want to have to end up running away from myself.