Confessions of surrender
I can hear my mother’s voice in my head. “You need to be more humble.”
I’m certain I’m not acquainted with that word, though I know she is right.
What is it about ambition that makes me act sad and bitter?
Why can I only be brilliant when I’m feeling defeated, I’m sure most musicians would agree. All the best songs were written about a time of pain and despair.
Yet again my mother’s voice, “kids in Africa, blah blah.”
I don’t know those kids, all I know is me.
Switchfoot says it best, I want “more than just ok.”
This is a test, they say, better things are coming.
Maybe they all forgot what its like.
It’s that old feeling, standing in a crowded room, screaming, and no one looks up once.
They just laugh.
I just need a minute to confess, to shout, to cry, to surrender.
I’ve totally felt this way all week. Hang in there. If you ever want someone to vent to, come on over. We can have time to complain and be frustrated together.. and then do something really fun and uplifting after