Anxious

It was a triumph, I thought. Thinking I were on my way, acting alone, moving on and improving my health and myself. It was suppose to be a huge success, hard to over state my satisfaction...
We do what we must because we can, but also because we think it's for the best: for the good of all of us, except those who are dead, seemingly...

You keep on crying till you keep on trying, and when you run out of tries you go back to despair and the tears. I am not angry, I am sincere. Torn to pieces, torn between what I wish and want and what I feel. I've been so happy for you. And I sincerely are still. Though therein lies the problem. I am happy and more willingly to care for others' well being then my own. I'm no saint or any of the kind, but I still turn from my own problems. I deny them, till I can suppress them no more. They come in urges and unthought scenarios, there will be consequences, but which consequences will cause payment? Those of the past sins or those of the present past?

Anxiety have always been and will always be part of our conscience state of mind. It influences some more then others. Nonetheless karma will sum up our consequences and we must meet out bill one way or the other. Anxiety is felt strongly when we know the bill is overdue and we are waiting for the result. We may survive or we may not, either figuratively speaking or not.

I'm just wondering what I must pay. They say I live up to my carrier as an artist. Considering what James Taylor once said

That's the motivation of an artist - to seek attention of some kind