You Be Big

I’m just going to pretend like I didn’t see it because I think it costs me something. I think if I give someone a pat on the back and say “Way to go, Mac”, “Hey, you’re pretty good at that banjo”, “Don’t stop. You’re damn sure better than me”, it might mean they actually wind up doing better than me, and I just can’t have that.
I can’t have them getting more chicks, or money, or maybe it’s just simple recognition. And maybe it’s not ‘more’, maybe it’s just ‘at all’.
And I just can’t tell myself that that’s why I do it either because I’m more scared of myself than I am of other people.
What if I’m average? And what does that mean?
There’s seven and half billion people on the planet. Who am I? Who can I be?
Oh God.
I’m so scared and the world is so big and I’ve finally made it just
small enough so that I never have see or think about things that I don’t want to anymore. And I’m so tired of being scared of —
of —
That’s what it means to be an adult now
… now,
that is, that I am an adult.
That’s what it means.
If you make your world small enough, you can sit in your house comfortably and watch television and never have to worry about how small you are because now you’re so big in a world that so very small.

It’s so much easier to be so big in a word that is so small,

so very very

small