the truth about being pretentious

At some point in time, people feel the need to follow an icon; taking the first step to developing a personality of their own. Some may call that as being pretentious. Others find it highly humiliating.

That's where developing your own character, believing in yourself comes in to form that image that you so want to be in your life. The part that you thought you had lost but you had never, you only were blinded by it because you were so ..obsessed, to get that special something that you never had in your life. Something that was linked to an emotion that you felt in your past, or perhaps something that you lost along the way of your childhood, or even maybe the truth that you always have sought out - at which point, the latter would take you back to square one, again.

The art of being pretentious is to be to deceive, to connive, to allude your fellowship from your true goal. A skill that is, in part, attained by many, but to their dismay, mastered by minority of the pack.

The chance of a lifetime lies within that split second when you finally realize what you have sought out was always there and it is waiting there for you to take it, to grasp it, to manipulate it and mold it into any form you so wish. The hand may be quicker than they eye, but the mind is swifter than them both put together.

To which, at this point, you have mastered, and regained your position in your life by opting for the path that you were so chosen for. Setting yourself back onto track. Setting your life back into the tracks that you should have laid years ago, but, yet again, were blinded by your 'obsession'.

The true wonder of life, isn't what you have achieved, or the amount of people you so please, but it is measured by how truly you spent your life.

And by this measurement, I so choose not to lie to myself anymore. By taking the path that I have been set to from the day I was born.

For what little can become so great
Of the great; the little wonder
Of passion and lover's fate
Attraction is not a test, but a plunder

For life's eminence is a truth
Of white lies and grey
The question to which we owe ourselves an answer
Is the mind and its open gates