I realised recently how much I dread being secondary to others, how I would put in my utmost effort to get ahead, if it does matter that much to me. These occasions used to be so scarce, that it seems rather appalling to have them clouding my life at the present moment. I know I should try repeatedly till I succeed, or at least that was what I used to do. The past when I believed I was capable of capturing the stars. These days, I see others surpassing me with negligible effort involved. True, I do still put in an effort to catch up. It keeps me occupied, it makes time pass, and it makes the sting of failure that little bit more serene. Being engaged in work does not give me the opportunity to look into the future and see failure coming, till it hits. Then it is time to wallow in self-pity, to feel the urge to dig a hole in the ground and hide, till I feel it's time to relive my life. No, I am not a quitter. I'll carry on with life, I'll carry on trying. I'm just saying that I dislike failing. This term shoudn't exist at all, a world of success would be just perfect. Oh, fuck the candid truth.