Failure

I fail at every single thing that I do.  What is even the point any more?  Getting back up when all that happens is you get knocked back down again?  There is a point to be made for persistence, for keeping at it, for spending your life getting knocked down and improving yourself so that the times between falls get longer and longer, but this is not the case for me.  Lately I find myself on the hard floor more often than not, and it's become more difficult to get back up.  

I've never really succeeded at anything.  This sounds like an exaggeration, but it's not.  My entire life is one series of failures after another.  Temporary successes followed by permanent setbacks that negate any advantage any success may have had.  I can't even point to any of these so-called "successes" as any advantage in my life, because they all are a net negative.  I will never say that it can't get any worse, because it always does.

My life has become a passive observer of the lives of others.  People more brave, able, and capable than I will ever be.  I become weaker by the day, with no motivation or ability to change anything.  

I have utterly failed.  

And I will continue to fail, as I will not allow myself the stalemate of the coward's way out.  But for the first time in my life, that option pesters me in a dark corner of my mind, where it had never even manifested.  I refuse to allow that option to win.  I refuse to let it grow past its current incarnation.  Do not fear for me.  But I cannot call not giving in to that option a true success, as the option should not be there in the first place, and its very existence in my mind is yet another indication of my utter failure.

Even in my darkest writings I try to remain upbeat and create an ending of some sort of hope.  Some sort of self-motivation out of a dark path I am following.  But what hope comes out of a labyrinth of dark paths in a dark place with no escape?

Hope is for those who are not a failure.