I am not disgusted by failure. failure is honorable. failure means a man reached for something beyond his grasp and came up short, and the reach alone places him above the crowd. what disgusts me is the refusal to reach. the decision to want less so that less comes easier. the quiet settling that everyone has agreed to call being realistic. I watch capable people aim deliberately low and defend it with a straight face, and underneath the defense is always the same thing. a person who found their own potential too heavy and set it down.
the meanest thing you do to yourself is pretend you don’t want the things you want. shrink the desire before anyone can see it. call it unrealistic before someone else does. and then walk around with this low grade starvation you can’t name because you buried the appetite so deep even you forgot where you put it. wanting things is dangerous. I know. it opens you up to disappointment and to looking foolish and to reaching for something that might not reach back. want it anyway. the alternative is a life of pretending you’re full.