the cost of "unsuccess"

the word failure is so unappealing...i am now referring to (in this post at least) it as "unsuccess"...

i feel like an unsuccess...the sad part, is that it's not anything major...just little things, hardly a blip on a radar, but, neurotic spaz that i am, it sits on my heart like an dull pain, too broad to contemplate, to vague not to...oh yay...my melodramatic side is emerging...quick! beware the drama queen!

i decided long ago that i am entirely too silly and reflective (reflective silliness?) to involve myself with anyone...which is kind of nice, because then it means i dont have to whine and pine over someone entirely too full of his own idiosyncratic behaviours...hell, i have enough of my own to muddle through...

the problem with being an unsuccess lies in the fact that i dont really know what it feels like...i tend to do well in whatever i choose, just happens to be that way, not really a result of effort...so when i encounter unsuccess i pull the curtains back and let the show begin...

act 1 - panic and disbelief (me?? i am an unsuccess?? now what do i do?? what will become of me??)

act 2 - utter despair (the world as i know it is ended...i know that everyone can see the big scarlett letter of "unsuccess" my bosom...yes, i just said bosom...remember...with the dramatics come a flair for poetic bouts of silliness)

act 3 - defeat (i cant do anything right, so why try...oh! weak and foolish heart! to hope and believe!...bleh...lots of sighing and blank stares)

when's intermission?...what??...life doesnt come with an intermission??...I WANT MY MONEY BACK!!