There’s always been pressure

From an anonymous source, faceless judges the moment I signed up for this. It starts off small when I figured no one would read what I had to write, when I figured no one would care.

But now I find they do, and instead the pressure starts to build.

Perhaps I am a perfectionist, always seeking to better my craft without rest, pushing myself until I am worn down, then picking it up again months later. This happens in an exhausting, endless cycle that I hope to be free of.

Unfortunately the pressure stays.

Even now I feel pressured to write something everyday, or I would let down the people who read my words. I must write something thought-provoking, awe-inspiring, words that even Gandhi would say himself. But I’m not Gandhi, nor am I Martin Luther King, or even Confucious, but I am myself. An ignorant young adult who has much to learn in the ways of the world.

I must learn to accept that fact, yet at the same time strive to become a better person without continually exhausting myself.

Perhaps finding that balance is the greatest piece of self-enlightenment that I can attain, for after that, I would have figured out the steps to achieve my aspirations.

Of course, easier said than done.

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