She felt as though nothing she did turned out right. She felt as though the things she was putting in – time, hope, energy, passion, money, ideas – would run out before anything good happened. She felt she would never get where she wanted to be. But every failure was another handful of sand, dropped at her feet. Every failure was pressure and heat and time. And so here she stands, on a bedrock of things that didn't work out. It is strong enough to hold her, high enough to help her reach.
Take this one, terrifying word
this be-all, end-all, wake-you-in-the-middle-of-the-night word.
Look.
Its history is packed with battles and attacks
but once it meant shield –
once it offered shelter.
FAILURE. Can you please not write it down? FAILURE. You can say it, but I don't like to see it in print. FAILURE. Words spoken are more easily lost, don't you find? FAILURE. And maybe cut the capital letters? FAILURE. You are making me uncomfortable. FAILURE. Maybe we could have a little think about how we phrase it? FAILURE. Learning. I like the word learning. FAILURE. I'm trying to say that there are other ways of putting this, without using that word. FAILURE.
