Sometimes I am quite too much myself, ego that I’ve brought from being who I don’t deserve to be proud of things I haven’t done, only to think myself better, to be seen better, to believe that I am meant for something.

 Sometimes (frightfully) I end up believing that I am better than my fellow man/woman/child of God, for what I think I see, what I think I feel that makes me special.

Sometimes, it scares me when these other people ever pass my own bar. Then I’m frightened when I fail to meet my own. But sitting now, remembering the words Plato spoke to me (when I’d listen), humbled, I become superior to ego.

Pure early morning again; 1:15 AM; I am again thinking of undreamt dreams that go by every night I force myself into waking. And no, I am not awake doing homework/studying like the good student I should be. Nope. My homework sits under clumps of ether while the cotton balls of sleep swab through my optic radiations. I’m dreaming of a life I feel is truly worthy, given by powers beyond my pull, success given by those not my own…’

Isn’t it a wonderful feeling? Believing that our destinies and fates we discover are put there by _______ waiting for us to find it? Kind of like the minefield of dreams that unconscious minds rumble through at night…