Those Who Ne'er Succeed,Bracha Goykadosh

The human experience, ravaged of all dreams, is a bleary existence. The days accumulate, the nights pass, and all that is left are wispy, gray memories. It is a deathly, sloth-like existence with etches of the saddest grays, mourning blues and the green-brown color of dirty water. No music plays and no laughter echoes. There is merely a trudge, the despairing sound of feet shuffling to a monochrome grave. It is a simple, unthinking life cocooned from pain or distress. Simultaneously, it is a cynical, pessimist life full of bitterness.

There are those who do not dream. They tumble through this pitiful existence by choice. Fragile and cold, they stand at the sidelines. They do not dream not because they cannot dream, but because they cannot get hurt. They can't fail. And yet, what defines failure and what defines success? Essentially, it can be thought, that success is getting what you want how you want and failure is not. Failure is watching white knuckles turn bloody and scarred when attempting to bang on the door of success.

Failure is impending. It is inevitable. It hovers. It is waiting, like the Angel of Death, to snatch you and throw you onto its bandwagon and cart you off to the land of lemmings. Because you cannot stop for Failure, he'll kindly stop for you. But Failure will not sit in the carriage with you. He knows you will not be lonely. Nobody fails alone. They fail with pockets full of memories, desires, wishes and wants, hope and dreams. Every demon from your past will follow you. Every ghost you have ever known will scream with glee. And they, they will haunt you. They will haunt you on your ride to doom.

Success is only a dream. For now, you cannot touch it, you cannot hold it, and you cannot even smell it. It is so far away, so distant and teeny in the horizon that you have to strain your eyeballs to even catch a glimpse of it, that you wonder if it's even really there. And instinctively you know you cannot run that fast. You cannot go that far. You will not get there. And Failure is right here. He is waiting. He is wooing you with lemonade and air-conditioning, silently chanting giveitupgiveitup giveitupgiveitup. Why not just hitch a ride with him.

And how many times can you fall before you can't get up again? How many miles can you run before you can't breathe anymore, before you feel your knees collapsing under you? How many times can you fall before you are too scarred and broken to get there? Before your limbs are nothing but a battered mess, and every hope and song you ever had to offer is nothing but a desperate croak? All you see in this never-ending orange-brown flatness is the dust in your eyes. And the sun scorches your once white, rosy skin into rubbery hard leather.

But, how much do you want it? How bad do you need it?

Die tired. Die full of purpose. Die while still hitting back. Fight. Fight while you still can. Run. Run while you still can. And if you still don't get there, if you still don't see Success, never give into Failure.

Redefine Success.

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Those Who Ne'er Succeed , Bracha Goykadosh