I'm sitting at my desk, scratching my beard and looking at my computer like it holds a universal truth I don't quite understand yet. My fingers are heavy and so is my mind. My times leaves me with each and every second, but I am caught in the own tracks of my ambition. Soon I will be done with this project I put all my hopes into. Soon I will have to submit countless hours of work to uncaring judgement, so now I'm in no hurry to finish anymore.
This is the struggle I'm always in. The vessel of my absolute against the shores of reality. I have control of my own ship only. The stream, the winds and the sharp edges of the coast are watching my each and every movement, waiting for a mistake. I can hear the sounds of your judgement from here: "Don't be so dramatic" or "It's not the end of the world". It's my life, my ship and wrong movement can send me adrift for too long. The end of the world became something very intimate in this age of abundance.
But I have to take the risk. I made peace with the fact that I can't live without taking chances. This is me, this is my ship. So here I am, finishing that novel I'm so scared no one will read. Here's to courage, a poem that helped countless men with the fear to move forward.
Invictus by W.E Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
