Wrong side of the glass

Is my dynasty within myself to be preoccupied with unhappy pursuits, meaningless occupation, while I dream? Is my sonnet the affliction of lost motivation to my burning desires? Am I so happy with my restless agony, so content to be lost in the corn maze of frustration and hopelessness that the opportunity and real availability to live a fulfilled life is better off imagined? Am I really so afraid of success that the thought of blunder and heaven forbid, failure, are THE horses powering my chariot?

I live my entire life as I have always lived it. I live in the safest, most comfortable habitat I know. In my imagination adrift on thoughts that change as the clouds dissipate. I'm the clone, the cyborg human programmed to "do" and shackled to the responsibility I have taken upon myself of being sub-par, and mediocre to avoid commendation. I'm the brain in a jar. The bird in a cage left open by the owner.

"Free if you want to be. Spread your wings and fly."

The wings are weak from being held to the back. The first flight takes the most courage, is the most tiresome, and takes the longest to both prepare for and recover from. The danger of falling, the anticipation of soaring. I read that a baby bird will die if the mother helps free it from it's egg. The trial of breaking the shell, torpid from growing and being born, strengthens the baby bird. It's this initial struggle that prepares it mentally, and physically for the demands of survival. If the mother peeled away the shell for the baby, the struggle would be gone, and the reality of a birds existence would prove fatal. In our world, as humans, we all have the absolute luxury of being top tier predators and having a socially interactive upbringing and maturation. We can somehow still survive, but I wonder if that makes us weaker. I wonder if struggle is empowering to people strong enough to develop a hard callous.

I know for certain I am getting stronger during this time of malaise. It's a rebirth from the ashes of who I was, the broken mirror of what I saw in myself that was really the image of what people wanted me to be, or thought I was. It was not true. I am not here to fulfill voids, I am not here to play an entire cast in one play. I have spent too much time inward, watching and wanting. It's high time I decide astutely what side of the glass I want to be on from this point on. God give me the strength to become who I am, because I don't know.