Shower Epiphany: I am a creature of doubt.

There are moments in which for many a heart beat may pass and a quick shuttered eye closing off to the world if only a moment where I doubt myself in any and every way and method possible. I question motives, actions, desires, ramification and multiple chain reactions that most would not dare to utter. I self analyze and expose all, including myself in a quick rational calculative biopsy that often leave me silent for those moments that hang heavy. How a thought in the wrong chain, an uncorrectable action, a misplaced breath can the razor's edge between greatness and utter misery.

I am hard on myself since I know no one can ever be so on me. I am my worst critic, my greatest opposition, my loudest detractor. I search for pin holed weaknesses that can be used to ridicule, disarm and render my action mute. I repeat thoughts in different magnifications in order to know unintended innuendos, blasphemies and taboos are cross out of calculated risk rather than haughty blindness. I review minutes lost to time and rebuild the wreckage of failed attempts, Freudian slips, and bovine compliments. I throw myself against thought and wit as athletes would ram themselves against oppressive opposition and angst antagonistic antimatter.

My greatest fear is not having language and meaningful vernacular leave me speechless and impotent in the only method I am able to convey intent, attraction and passion which other well catered phenotypes are able to simply strike opulent poses to declare beauty and magnificence. I have to become dependent on a silver tongue of a cunning linguist, golden flash of nimble fingers and a sharpened mind to compensate my lack of physical woo.

My greatest fear is arriving at convincing and gaining the open trust of anyone willing to entertain and indulge my barker like spell that in the wrong hands would exchange ownership for fraudulent stock in fallen fortune 500's, bridges, and moments where a quick and nimble tongue, much like a brown fox, would bound over lazy dogs of thought. At best, my voice may rally Henry's Chrispin soldiers, inspire the museless and woo those who value a well placed word and promise.

My greatest fear is believing in my own ability.

Then....and only then will what magic I can conjure with picture's worth of effort be diminished and any edge will become dull and harmless.

No.....I must not trust my ability in order to continue to hone and sharpen it.

It's the only way enchantment may exist in my analytical existence.

Some moment I rue the day I learned was not physically appealing. Other days I mock fully morn those who are.