Once upon a time, there was this little girl who had poofy hair and wore overalls all the time. She grew up to be this weird girl who could sing her heart out. She only sang for her mom though. She only sang for her family. Her mom said she had true talent. Her dad said her singing made him cry–happy tears that is. She tried the talent show at school and totally crashed and burned because she was frozen with fear. She didn’t sing for real for two years straight and it nearly killed her. She was in the choir at school, but only did lip singing. She became something she wasn’t. Her mom helped her through this phase and as soon as she was back on her feet, her mom suggested that she sing at this event. She was excited, ready to show her true self. Then this group of girls stole her song and talked crap about her. The girl’s heart was destroyed once again. The guy who’s been liking her for years sat in the audience. She ignored him, ignored his nice words. She sang soullessly her second choice of song at the event, crashed and burned once again, stumbled off the stage, and didn’t sing for years to come. Her mom said that the girls stole her voice. Her dad didn’t think she’d ever sing again.
Here she is is though; back to life, stronger. She’s tired of hiding what she loves. She’s through with holding back what wants to spew out. She’s going to do the singing competition in August. She going to win. She’s not going to hold back. She’s going to live one of her passions like her friend that loves to dance, her friend that loves science, her friend that loves performing. She is strong and not weak. She is bright and not dull. She is here and not gone. She will live. She will love. She will sing.
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.