I... must continue 4, I have not failed

 I must continue, without thinking i have failed
I am
mesmerised at my own failures
here I am
always fearful that I am a failure
I always think
someone is better than me
I get jealous
I am naive spoken so
I wonder
Why cant I see myself as this rare breed of women whom God has created with more fault than good
yet deep in the crevices of my creation he also created a goodness unlike no other
no other woman has this goodness for only small quantities are needed and it becomes vast
the explosion of deletion of the rest
why cant i see that I am unique one with flawless imagination and tempting fascinations with life with sudan
i merge khartoum with heartbreak like it was mint and lemon ...I am the sugar and ice
I make everyhting sweet for I cannot or I do not want to see the bad in the things I love

i cannot understand why I cannot determine my actions and sanction as required
I require an inspiration coming from within me towards me at a pace of lawful desire for I need rules
I am lost without rules
But that is why no other person writes like I do
I do not make rules for I never abide
I do not think about what I write
I only write what I feel
if I think it is merely to detail the exquisite
sometimes I write so fast I am unable to keep up
two words ahead
I love writing
it has brought me pain and trouble
it has brought me love and understanding
but it has brought me wasteful feelings
a vast range of feelings I throw on paper
like thick waves crashing on the sand
I crash...the words out of my system

 and yet I cannot understand why I am so insecure with what i want to say
I used to be a strong woman
I felt like I was a strong woman
but today I delved into the weak woman that I think I've become without restriction
I didnt cry
but i suffocated my talent
I didnt scream
but complained
I complained about me

its going to fall
I can hear it
I can see it
more more
its going to come falling for the weight is too much and the angle is too sharp
I am a strange sort of woman focusing on the little and zooming out from the important
I focus on the detail
and yet never occupy myself with too much detail

only I can stop it
only I can stop what I dont like
only I can make the good movie of my life
only I can make myself famous

a part of me knows this
and a part of me is always searching
always demanding that tommorrow will be different
will be adamant to succeed
and yet I never succeeed

or is it that I do succeed but cannot see it
I cannot see the great success inside me at best coming through
I cannot see the smart detail of my intellignece
no i only see the black dots
the grey lines
the red vocabularly
i never see all the other words written with all their glory

never
i love writing
but I hate it at the same time
I do not know where it will take me
to a great sentence
an exact meaning
a powerful expression
but is that good or bad?
is it not terrible that the perfect thing is said what comes next
I rather search for perfection rather than find it
its like what happens after the they lived happily ever after
the end
and I do not want it to end
I want to continue
searching writing asking wondering hating crying loving
I want to continue searching