[Spoken Word — restrained, reflective, spacious] Ambition, my old childhood friend, I just can’t seem to grow out of you. I do my best to tuck you away, slightly embarrassed, but mostly afraid. You used to talk with me of the presidency, then whisper of the paths I could take along the way. But pride wasn’t a good partner for me. Wisdom called instead. [Spoken Word — slightly more conversational, same restrained feel] So I sat you down for a conversation: I enjoy your company, but we are going our separate ways. So off I went in humility and found you waiting there again for me. [Spoken Word — steady, thoughtful movement] I strolled past your corner with talents in tow, swearing generosity was the point of my show. But it seems I still noticed, from the corner of my eye, how nice you looked as I was passing by. The wake feels heavy when you look back from speed. You see the turbulence, the volatility, and know peace will return when everything finally stills. [Spoken Word — subtle restlessness underneath, no dramatic build] So you rush again toward the promise, the impossible, because the thrill of the challenge is where you really feel free. But should I trade the joy of now for a joy that comes later, when the slow, familiar investments finally pay their dividends? [Spoken Word — settle back, leave more space] Ah, the wait. The chance of never getting in. The fear of being buried beneath the need to prove yourself again. [Spoken Word — firmer, still controlled] No. I’ll take the road less traveled. Blaze another trail. Create the gravity. Then maybe I can have them both: the mundane and the originality. [Spoken Word — return to reflection, slightly heavier] But ambition needs onlookers, someone to see just what you’ve done. And most of the time, the original comes too early. It hides from everyone. Then credit tells the story of the one who comes next, when it doesn’t seem so crazy, so against the grain of all the rest. [Spoken Word — slower, thoughtful, weight settling in] And somewhere along the way, you miss the investment that pays in dividends. The ones you slowed down for can’t see where you’ve been. So now the mundane and the outcome both stare back, confused and gone, because no one really understood what you had been saying all along. They’ve been jaded by the crazy— or at least by the accusation of it— because they never understood the vision and grew impatient with the sacrifice. [Spoken Word — reflective, personal, restrained] Conviction drove your story. Just living drove theirs. They don’t realize you built some of the moments they live inside now, the very things they’ve come to care about. [Spoken Word — more space, almost still] And still— the need. The need. It is always there. Buried, waiting for eruption. [Spoken Word — slight return of restless energy, remain restrained] To build again. Start again. Do the impossible again. And I fear I won’t be able to contain it. [Spoken Word — settle into stillness, unresolved] Or perhaps what I really fear is that I might have to.
