I would like to be so many miles away from here and stay here. I'd like to visit all the beautiful places nobody ever visits and not have to drive anywhere. I'd like to love with all my heart so many things I'd need three lifetimes to fully love. If I could spend a day as anyone else I'd still pick me – only the circumstances would change, and even that I'm not so sure of. You can be down on your luck but never up. I can't remember a time in my life when I ever wanted less. I'd love to write this in verse, but I fear I'd hate myself then. This is not a poem; this is a promo.

In the blink of an eye I expired all my ideas. The same time it took for my face to need face filters. What's bad is I still think they were killer concepts, only I killed them off. There are certain hours I start to believe I'm lazy, then I remember I've never worked so hard before. Still counts as hardly working to the rest of the world. I would really like to evict all the clichés from my head, but then I'd feel unarmed.

The fears are gripping me now. That I won't forgive time. That I won't look pretty on my world tour. That I have nothing left to say. I'd like to do like that old Italian man did: disappear for twenty years and whip out my masterpiece before I'm gone. I don't know if I have it in me to wait that long. The dreams are left unchanged. One large pay check to solve all my problems and to prove everyone wrong. This big star I picked to be is available in all professions but mine. I can keep going and blame myself, but the fact is it's still not up to me. I can keep going, still. My next book is about waiting for life to start. That's how I'm living, still. I don't know if I'll see the start when the time comes, but I'm eager to find out.

I can tell myself the world doesn't need to hear me, or I'm not ready to hear the world, or the passion will die and only the truth of my incompetence will remain, but I don't believe any of that. I know for sure something is going to happen, or nothing makes sense. Until then I'll be with myself. Regroup, refocus, rebuild. On offline mode and trying to forget that I'm – still – undiscovered.