i've been on so many beginnings. the sad part is most of the things and/or dreams that i began doing have been stuck somewhere gathering dust and cobwebs. 

the thing with beginnings is they're always so much fun. there is planning, a bit of research, the first acts - all exciting and new.

towards the middle though the exitement fades a little each day and is replaced but tediousness.

and then there's the heartbreak of realizing that you don't want to go further.

there were so many good things that i began with which never saw the harsh light of a finished task.

maybe it denotes a fear of being judged by what i did or didn't do. 

perhaps it is my lingering fear of being misunderstood and being underrated/overrated.

and it pains me to think that this may be one of them.