Everyone always thinks I'm so fearless...I'm so extreme. They really don't know me then. They really don't know who I am. Everyone feels fear, pain, something that makes them just the slightest bit weak. They all think I'm a superhero or something. But I'm not. I fear just like everyone else. I anticipate things, bad, good, whatever is thrown at me. People think I'm a little crazy, messed up in the head. But I'm just a normal person. Just like everyone around me. I do fear...I fear plenty, they just don't know that...

/Is it any wonder why I'm scared,
If I was a little younger would I
care, feeling like the walls are growing stronger,
I don't know if this cage can hold me any longer

I know I chose what I wanted to do, I made the choice, and no one pushed me. I do what I do out there, because I want to, because I love to. I go out there and expend myself, push my body to the absolute limit. I put myself on the line, and I enjoy it. But it's getting to the point...were I feel stuck. I'm in the same things over and over. The same competition, night after night, after night. Why? Why? I can't answer it. So who the hell can?

/you never dreamed you'd have to live your life so guarded,
cause they'll find a way to make you feel discarded

I'm not afraid of tomorrow,
I'm only scared of myself,
feels like my insides are on fire, and I'm looking through the eyes of someone else

Are you afraid before you go out and perform? That's the question I hear almost every day. So I may live by a slogan, fear is only a four letter word, but inside, it means nothing. Before any big thing, any big match, appearance, performance, anything! Inside, everything jumps around. Everything skips. My stomach twists and turns like a contortionist. Sure I love what I do, but there's just that burning feeling inside. The questions in the back of my head. Will I make this spot? Will the move work? Will I come out alive? Will come out at all? Why am I going in in the first place? What's my purpose? But all the feelings that plague me inside, fuel the adrenaline that gives me the rush, the high no drug could ever provide. It's not about me, hell no, it's about them. The people that pay to see me, my friends, my collogues, everyone in the business. I do it for them, and I'm happy to say it. For the little kid sitting in the front row, on his father's shoulders, wearing one of my shirts. For the girl with the sign with my name on it. For the ones that watch at home, the ones who cringe at everything that happens to me. Just for 10 minutes, I'd love to go into one of their heads, and see what they see. See how they see me. I'd like to see through their eyes. Heh, wouldn't that be a trip?

/I never thought they'd want me to go even faster,
never thought I took my foot off the gas,
everybody loves to be in on the pressure,
but I know they're all waiting for the crash

I push myself; I've said it before. I love to see the outcome, to hear the feedback. It takes a great toll on me, but hell, it's all worth it. I push through each match, hurting, or bleeding, 100% or 10% that's just how I am. No one can tell me that I'm not who I am. No one can stop me...no matter how much they say I'll burn out. Burn out. Damn to I hear that a lot. Burn out. That'll be you. You'll be just like so and so. This'll be you one day if you're not careful son. Ha! Those who have such little faith, who think I can't take care of myself. The ones who think I'll crash and burn. The ones who think I'll just fade away. Just slide out of the light. But YOU'RE WRONG! I won't! I refuse! I won't just let myself fade away. All of you who think I will. I'LL PROVE YOU WRONG! Angry? No. Determined? Maybe. Ready? Yes. I'm ready to prove all of you doubters wrong. 10 years from now, where will I be? If not here, somewhere near. 5 years from now, where will I be? Here? Yes, I believe I will be. Count on the fact, that you won't be getting rid of me anytime soon.

/you never dreamed you'd have to live your life so guarded,
cause they'll find a way to make you feel discarded,
things have changed you've become a complication,
can make it through another days

Would it seem apt if I just put up a wall and blocked everyone out? Or would that be selfish? I think the latter is the right answer. I can't do that. I can't push people out. They try to help. I know they want to and they mean well. But it aggravates me! It makes me think they can't trust me to be safe. That they have to show me like I'm a damn rookie! I take that back, there's nothing wrong with the rookies in this company, they're all completely capable athletes, talented, intelligent, and hard working. How about I rephrase this, they think they have to show me all over again, like I'd never done it before in my life...that's better. I can do it, they just don't believe me. They tell me, you've landed this wrong, you can't do it that way. You'll tear yourself apart, don't bump that way. You can't...you shouldn't, don't, stop doing that that way! When will they say you CAN!? WHEN?

/I'm not afraid of tomorrow,
I only scared of myself,
feels like my insides are on fire and I'm looking through the eyes of someone else

someone else...

You know, everyone says that I'm the most fearless, most resilient person they know. I fear, but I'm not afraid. What? It makes perfect sense. I fear things, but I'm not afraid of everything. The way I see it, the only real thing I've got to fear is myself. What I'm capable of. What I can do, what I will do. I know I'll do something crazy, overly creative and on the brink of insane. But maybe I won't. I don't worry about what tomorrow brings to me, I just worry about what I and right then, right away... But I have to ask myself, why is it that I fear the thinks I can do?

/is it any wonder why the answer keeps me petrified,
is it any wonder why ,
I'm scared.....


" Hmm...It's about time I finally got all that out."

Jeff got up from the couch and tossed the book to the ground by his bag. He looked in the mirror at himself, fairly satisfied.

" This is who I am. I accept it."

Jeff smiled and left the room, leaving the book lying open on the floor, the pages he had written on facing upwards.