Post by Fiona McFly on Aug 14, 2017 1:47:33 GMT
FIONA'S JOURNAL
10 August 2017
Dear Kathy..
If last week proved to be something to behold, then that means I'd find myself in big trouble.
Yet deep in me soul, if there was one thing I can take from Keira beating me, it's that it's in the past now. And truth be told, I've been dwelling so much on the past that it has started to take a toll on me, leaving me with nothing except empty promises, broken thoughts, things that I've left unfinished or incomplete. Yet through every loss we endure, competitively or personally, there comes a point in time when he BOTH realise that it's our duty, our lot in this world, to get back up and keep on trying 'til we get things right.
Which is why I threw me name into the Open Fight Night bucket in the first place.
I had this feeling that you were going to answer the challenge...and quite frankly, you should be applauded. When you think about it, you and I had our own fair share of differences and whatnot, sometimes we allowed our differences to boil over, letting terrible things happen. That being said...there comes a point in time when we have to simply bury the hatchet and acknowledge the notion that, as fellow competitors, it hasn't been easy. We both want to be Champions, we're both wives or either current or retired wrestlers; so if there's a tidbit about us both that gives us a tinge of common ground, it's the very thing that lifts us up...yet holds us back down at the same time.
Pride. It's a double-edged blade, yet we can't escape using it in our lives.
It's somethinng we carry with us on our journey EVERY single day. It gives us the strength, the itch, to even WANT to be a competitor inside that ring and a Champion on the outside. It gives us the courage that we need, as individuals, to push ourselves harder and faster than we can ever push ourselves and grow beyond the limitations we might present outselves. It's the thing that MAKES us believe in ourselves to do greater things and succeed, overcoming our own failures and such.
Here's the thing though: when turned inward, pride becomes an unconquerable enemy.
There's a VERY good reason why most of the Diamond lot out there dismiss you as nothing more than a corporate type, and it's as simple as simple can get. Through all your business decision-making, through everything you've managed to do to help shape this division into, you wear a mask--a facade that hides the fact that you were never a holder of ANY Championship belt in IWF--from Ruby and Shieldmaiden, to the DIamonds title. Yet you've given yourself this false bravado, this false title of "Queen of Diamonds" when others have passed you over and made this division sparkle...even if a few were rather loud and obnoxious.
When I first got started here, I'd have probably joined those women who've dismissed you...
...and then I realised how stupid that would have been, and doing something like that would have hindered me chance to grow as a person AND competitor...
...and that is something I will never stop doing.
Look, I see a woman with a God-given talent. I see a competitor whose willing to go out there and finally EARN a Championship and prove those malcontentful haters wrong. But here's a newsflash lovely...as the cliche goes, what pride giveth, pride can taketh away. I will push you Kathy, farther than you've ever been pushed before. I will test you in ways that you can't even begin to describe. I will FORCE you into expanding yourself beyond your own limitations. You can keep me down all you want to, but just understand...that I'll be getting right back up, time and time again, 'til I can't even fight anymore.
For if there's one thing, one SINGULAR THING, that you can learn from this opportunity, it's that the one thing that trumps pride more than anything else...
...it's heart. The heart to keep on going for more in spite of failure.
Even if we're ashamed to admit we're not perfect.
(1/2)
~~~
Verse 1 ~ REDUX
25 July 2017 + 1230 GMT
An all-too-familiar aroma filled the house until it was consumed by it, including the master bedroom towards the back where we find Fiona McFly. Indeed, it was her favourite brunch--chocolate chip pancakes, fried eggs with cheesy potatoes and bacon, and coffee with mocha and sweet cremes to boot.
Yet she wasn't paying attention to the smells of her husband's good old-fashioned home cooking.
Surely it was thirty minutes past noon on a party cloudy Tuesday in Arlington, when most people would be out on a jog by now--at least, before the 100-degree heat settled in later on in the day. Yet on this particular day we find Fiona sitting at the corner desk, deep in thought as she looked down upon an open spiral notebook, putting a modern feathered pen to paper.
There were two notebooks on the desk--one had a light-blue and orange hued cover that featured her wrestling promotional material spanning two years' time. Yet the other one had a crimson-hued cover, its contents unknown to many readers except herself...
...not even her husband Jack Gaither, who strolled into the room with a smirk on his mug, knew about it.
JACK GAITHER:
You alright? Made brunch, your favorite...
She didn't say a word, still writing words down on the pages of her open book. Jack knew that when his wife was working on something, he damn well better leave her alone and come back another time.
At least...that was what his brain had told him. His heart, however, wanted him to know exactly what she was working on. So he asked her, being as gentle and level-headed as he could--albeit hestitantly, thinking about the possibility of her snapping back at him.
JACK:
What'cha writin' there, hun?
He sighed to himself, awaiting the inevitable loss of her temper. Much to Jack's amazement, however, nothing happened.
Fiona, as quiet as she could be, stood up and walked towards the kitchen, leaving Jack to ponder whether or not he did something wrong again. It left him worried, knowing full-well that his wife was never like this before in her life--for she was always willing to talk to him about certain things that have affected her life over the course of time.
He couldn't help but close his eyes, fearing the worst.
Yet his fears were short-lived as he heard a distinctive sound coming from the hallway.
Fiona returned to the room, pulling a dining room chair towards the desk. Placing it next to the swiveling black chair, she motioned for her husband to sit next to her. He did so, looking her in the eyes before looking down upon the journal she had been writing for a little over a year. With a nod of her head, she let him peruse through the personal diary's contents.
And he did, starting at where else but the very beginning.
Jack took a deep breath as he read through his wife's varying entries, dealing with some her proudest moments like winning that famous 1994 summer go-kart race in Fredericksburg, to the times she had spent with her father William onboard his Royal Navy anti-mine vessel, and many other events which had transpired over the course of her existance on this planet.
Her deepest, most secret thoughts were inscribed on its pages, like fresh paint on canvas. Yet one snippet from a passage took him by surprise.
"I never realised that a life's journey would be so painful and hard.
I wish he was here, to tell me everything was going to be alright.
I wish I had the inner strength to tell him how much I really loved him..."
Jack turned to the page where Fiona kept her bookmark, reading through her most recent entry about the early morning drive she had taken, placing it neatly on the desk. She looked at him, trying to muster up a sentence...but her voice trailed off before she could muster a comprehendable sentence. It was at this moment in time when Jack realised that he didn't need to prompt her to tell him what was wrong--for the events of the last few weeks, which were etched into the pages of her notebook like a freshly-chiseled stone, had taken its toll on the Northern Irishwoman.
She was at her breaking point--for all she wanted was a friendly face to analyse her darkest, innermost secrets.
Jack knew it right away--her words were much deeper, more powerful than anything he'd ever read before.
Fiona lurched towards Jack, wrapping an arm around him as he took a moment or two to figure out how emotionally overwrought she truly was. He softly rubbed his hands through the trembling woman's hair, his left shoulder becoming a repository for his wife's wall of water which streamed from her eyes.
She tried to say something but couldn't muster a singular word.
Jack had to step in and comfort HER when she needed it the most.
JACK:
I dunno if I ever said this or not, but...I loved ya from the very beginnin', since the day ya bumped into me in the cafeteria all these years ago. And I'll tell ya what, well...if ya hadn't caused me to spill my Coke on your dress that day, if ya wasn't here, I wouldn't even be alive today. The fact that you're workin' as hard as you're workin' and doin' good, that you're doin' what ya wanna do in life and enjoyin' every second gives me a...what's the word, a motivatorization...
Fiona's trembling slowed, almost to a stop, as she tried to eke out a slight chuckle at Jack's wordplay or lack thereof. He paused for a second at the awkwardity of it all before speaking again, using an inflection, a loving and soothing tone, that was very much reminiscent of his mother.
JACK:
...ya know, to stay in the livin'. 'Cuz I had times in my own life when I got to thinkin' about witherin' away 'cuz I ust didn't wanna live no more. Yet as my mom used to tell me when I was little, God is smarter than what people are really thinkin'. Day by day, we start losin' and keep on losin' all the time--our friends, family, everything around us; we keep goin' down 'til we start askin' ourselves "oh gee, what the hell am I livin' for anyway. I ain't got no reason to do nothin' no more. Just let me die and be done with it."
Fiona's face panned slightly, allowing the two to look at each other straight in the eye.
JACK:
Gettin' to know ya all these years ago...gave me a good reason to keep livin', and I'm gonna keep on livin' and watchin' ya do good things. 'Cuz you gave ME a shot to move on after my mom died. You gave ME somethin' to look forward to when nobody else gave me a chance...and you were, are, and always will be the greatest blessin' God has ever given me.
Jack nodded his head proudly, slowly hunching over to give Fiona a kiss. She blinked her left eye, taking in the moment his words began to sink in, and gently kissed him back. He stood up, heading back towards the dining room...
FIONA MCFLY:
I love you...
...only for her soft, caressing sentence to stop him dead in his tracks. He looked back at her, watching with a sense of inner peace, as she returned to her open book. Fiona had been on this journey with him for so many years, filled with its ups and downs and all that jazz; yet in the end, even she knew that the biggest storms that raged in her heart would eventually subside, giving her comfort in knowing that with every journey, there's always a fresh step.
And with her pink-ink pen, she noted that journey in a brief poetic passage, making her fresh steps come to life.
When sadness burns inside,
or anger pierces your mind,
Don't ever worry about the past,
for a new day will soothe your heart;
Even as the world we love
tears itself apart...
~TO BE CONTINUED~
~~~
(2/2)
Oh Sara...
Once upon a time, you were considered one of the more up-and-coming talents Imperial had ever seen. You will primed for a good run, sharing the spotlight equally with your sister Paige and prove to the planet that the both of you were the best twin sister in wrestling--even far superior to the likes of, say, Amber and Kayla Richards.
Then...something terrible happened.
Instead of becoming a doer, you became nothing more than a mere observer. You watched as your sister, regardless of how boastful she really was, became one of the most dominant people in IWF. You let yourself become passed over by the more "superior" names instead of toiling away at your own game 'til you got it right. You even participated in the disrespect of a championship belt 'cos you didn't want anything and everything to get in the way of what the Garcia name stands for.
Winning, winning, winning...by any means necessary I might add. In your mind Sara, the "brand" motto tells you that failure is NOT an option.
Newsflash--it doesn't matter how good you are as a wrestler, as a singer, or whatever field of work you choose. 'Cos life isn't about championships, gold-plated records, or whatnot.
It's much deeper than that--deeper than you can even BEGIN to imagine.
Here's the thing...we don't live in a world filled with endless sunshine, ornate palm trees, or whatever fantasy you might contrive out of nowhere. It's a very cruel, vile, FOUL place with people WORSE THAN those who want to do nothing else except boast their accomplishments whilst hiding behind others when nothing goes their way, afraid of getting out of somebody else's shadow! And I don't care how successful you are, or how obnoxiously loudmouthed you really WANT to be, 'cos there are those who will stop at nothing to beat your arse into the pavement, snap you from limb to limb, and permanently END you if you let the world get to you.
You can hit hard--but guess what? So can I. Yet NOTHING on this planet will hit as hard as life itself--after all, God is smarter than what people think.
Sometimes I feel as if I'm wasting me breath by saying it, but I'm not saying it 'cos I want to say it...but 'cos I'm COMPELLED to do so even if it meant being a little repetitious. Yet deep down...the feeling is universal, that it doesn't matter how hard you can hit. It's about how hard you can GET hit--how mucn punishment you can really take--whilst keeping on living! That's the prime directive--the CENTRAL hallmark--to becoming a Champion, no matter what line of work you choose, in a world that will KILL you if you let it!
That's how you become a real winner and a real Champion.
If you truly believe that you are fully capable of staning on your own two feet and outside Paige's shadow, then go ahead, get up off your arse, and DO IT! Don't go crying over your own self-worth, get out there and TAKE IT! But there's always a catch...you've got to be willing to take the hits! You've got to stop pointing fingers at other people and saying "how dare you insult me, how dare you to this or that to me and take away me dream of being Champion!"
Fuck's sake, that's what COWARDS do--that's not you, lovely. You're BETTER than that!
You have a chance to step out of Paige's shadow. You have the chance to prove to the masses that you can work out on your own, as a complete individual and not just someone playing second fiddle to anyone else. But unless you're able to accept that fact that failure and loss are parts of the journey we ALL are taking, then you're not going to have a pleasant time 'cos you'll know NOTHING of what to do.
Believe me...I WILL make you humble. I WILL stretch you farther than you've ever been stretched before. And I WILL push you to your breaking points, until you realise that the only way you're going to survive in this cruel, vile, foul world...
...is by just being yourself. Even if it means living with the prospect of failure.
Cheerio!
10 August 2017
Dear Kathy..
If last week proved to be something to behold, then that means I'd find myself in big trouble.
Yet deep in me soul, if there was one thing I can take from Keira beating me, it's that it's in the past now. And truth be told, I've been dwelling so much on the past that it has started to take a toll on me, leaving me with nothing except empty promises, broken thoughts, things that I've left unfinished or incomplete. Yet through every loss we endure, competitively or personally, there comes a point in time when he BOTH realise that it's our duty, our lot in this world, to get back up and keep on trying 'til we get things right.
Which is why I threw me name into the Open Fight Night bucket in the first place.
I had this feeling that you were going to answer the challenge...and quite frankly, you should be applauded. When you think about it, you and I had our own fair share of differences and whatnot, sometimes we allowed our differences to boil over, letting terrible things happen. That being said...there comes a point in time when we have to simply bury the hatchet and acknowledge the notion that, as fellow competitors, it hasn't been easy. We both want to be Champions, we're both wives or either current or retired wrestlers; so if there's a tidbit about us both that gives us a tinge of common ground, it's the very thing that lifts us up...yet holds us back down at the same time.
Pride. It's a double-edged blade, yet we can't escape using it in our lives.
It's somethinng we carry with us on our journey EVERY single day. It gives us the strength, the itch, to even WANT to be a competitor inside that ring and a Champion on the outside. It gives us the courage that we need, as individuals, to push ourselves harder and faster than we can ever push ourselves and grow beyond the limitations we might present outselves. It's the thing that MAKES us believe in ourselves to do greater things and succeed, overcoming our own failures and such.
Here's the thing though: when turned inward, pride becomes an unconquerable enemy.
There's a VERY good reason why most of the Diamond lot out there dismiss you as nothing more than a corporate type, and it's as simple as simple can get. Through all your business decision-making, through everything you've managed to do to help shape this division into, you wear a mask--a facade that hides the fact that you were never a holder of ANY Championship belt in IWF--from Ruby and Shieldmaiden, to the DIamonds title. Yet you've given yourself this false bravado, this false title of "Queen of Diamonds" when others have passed you over and made this division sparkle...even if a few were rather loud and obnoxious.
When I first got started here, I'd have probably joined those women who've dismissed you...
...and then I realised how stupid that would have been, and doing something like that would have hindered me chance to grow as a person AND competitor...
...and that is something I will never stop doing.
Look, I see a woman with a God-given talent. I see a competitor whose willing to go out there and finally EARN a Championship and prove those malcontentful haters wrong. But here's a newsflash lovely...as the cliche goes, what pride giveth, pride can taketh away. I will push you Kathy, farther than you've ever been pushed before. I will test you in ways that you can't even begin to describe. I will FORCE you into expanding yourself beyond your own limitations. You can keep me down all you want to, but just understand...that I'll be getting right back up, time and time again, 'til I can't even fight anymore.
For if there's one thing, one SINGULAR THING, that you can learn from this opportunity, it's that the one thing that trumps pride more than anything else...
...it's heart. The heart to keep on going for more in spite of failure.
Even if we're ashamed to admit we're not perfect.
(1/2)
~~~
Verse 1 ~ REDUX
25 July 2017 + 1230 GMT
An all-too-familiar aroma filled the house until it was consumed by it, including the master bedroom towards the back where we find Fiona McFly. Indeed, it was her favourite brunch--chocolate chip pancakes, fried eggs with cheesy potatoes and bacon, and coffee with mocha and sweet cremes to boot.
Yet she wasn't paying attention to the smells of her husband's good old-fashioned home cooking.
Surely it was thirty minutes past noon on a party cloudy Tuesday in Arlington, when most people would be out on a jog by now--at least, before the 100-degree heat settled in later on in the day. Yet on this particular day we find Fiona sitting at the corner desk, deep in thought as she looked down upon an open spiral notebook, putting a modern feathered pen to paper.
There were two notebooks on the desk--one had a light-blue and orange hued cover that featured her wrestling promotional material spanning two years' time. Yet the other one had a crimson-hued cover, its contents unknown to many readers except herself...
...not even her husband Jack Gaither, who strolled into the room with a smirk on his mug, knew about it.
JACK GAITHER:
You alright? Made brunch, your favorite...
She didn't say a word, still writing words down on the pages of her open book. Jack knew that when his wife was working on something, he damn well better leave her alone and come back another time.
At least...that was what his brain had told him. His heart, however, wanted him to know exactly what she was working on. So he asked her, being as gentle and level-headed as he could--albeit hestitantly, thinking about the possibility of her snapping back at him.
JACK:
What'cha writin' there, hun?
He sighed to himself, awaiting the inevitable loss of her temper. Much to Jack's amazement, however, nothing happened.
Fiona, as quiet as she could be, stood up and walked towards the kitchen, leaving Jack to ponder whether or not he did something wrong again. It left him worried, knowing full-well that his wife was never like this before in her life--for she was always willing to talk to him about certain things that have affected her life over the course of time.
He couldn't help but close his eyes, fearing the worst.
Yet his fears were short-lived as he heard a distinctive sound coming from the hallway.
Fiona returned to the room, pulling a dining room chair towards the desk. Placing it next to the swiveling black chair, she motioned for her husband to sit next to her. He did so, looking her in the eyes before looking down upon the journal she had been writing for a little over a year. With a nod of her head, she let him peruse through the personal diary's contents.
And he did, starting at where else but the very beginning.
Jack took a deep breath as he read through his wife's varying entries, dealing with some her proudest moments like winning that famous 1994 summer go-kart race in Fredericksburg, to the times she had spent with her father William onboard his Royal Navy anti-mine vessel, and many other events which had transpired over the course of her existance on this planet.
Her deepest, most secret thoughts were inscribed on its pages, like fresh paint on canvas. Yet one snippet from a passage took him by surprise.
"I never realised that a life's journey would be so painful and hard.
I wish he was here, to tell me everything was going to be alright.
I wish I had the inner strength to tell him how much I really loved him..."
Jack turned to the page where Fiona kept her bookmark, reading through her most recent entry about the early morning drive she had taken, placing it neatly on the desk. She looked at him, trying to muster up a sentence...but her voice trailed off before she could muster a comprehendable sentence. It was at this moment in time when Jack realised that he didn't need to prompt her to tell him what was wrong--for the events of the last few weeks, which were etched into the pages of her notebook like a freshly-chiseled stone, had taken its toll on the Northern Irishwoman.
She was at her breaking point--for all she wanted was a friendly face to analyse her darkest, innermost secrets.
Jack knew it right away--her words were much deeper, more powerful than anything he'd ever read before.
Fiona lurched towards Jack, wrapping an arm around him as he took a moment or two to figure out how emotionally overwrought she truly was. He softly rubbed his hands through the trembling woman's hair, his left shoulder becoming a repository for his wife's wall of water which streamed from her eyes.
She tried to say something but couldn't muster a singular word.
Jack had to step in and comfort HER when she needed it the most.
JACK:
I dunno if I ever said this or not, but...I loved ya from the very beginnin', since the day ya bumped into me in the cafeteria all these years ago. And I'll tell ya what, well...if ya hadn't caused me to spill my Coke on your dress that day, if ya wasn't here, I wouldn't even be alive today. The fact that you're workin' as hard as you're workin' and doin' good, that you're doin' what ya wanna do in life and enjoyin' every second gives me a...what's the word, a motivatorization...
Fiona's trembling slowed, almost to a stop, as she tried to eke out a slight chuckle at Jack's wordplay or lack thereof. He paused for a second at the awkwardity of it all before speaking again, using an inflection, a loving and soothing tone, that was very much reminiscent of his mother.
JACK:
...ya know, to stay in the livin'. 'Cuz I had times in my own life when I got to thinkin' about witherin' away 'cuz I ust didn't wanna live no more. Yet as my mom used to tell me when I was little, God is smarter than what people are really thinkin'. Day by day, we start losin' and keep on losin' all the time--our friends, family, everything around us; we keep goin' down 'til we start askin' ourselves "oh gee, what the hell am I livin' for anyway. I ain't got no reason to do nothin' no more. Just let me die and be done with it."
Fiona's face panned slightly, allowing the two to look at each other straight in the eye.
JACK:
Gettin' to know ya all these years ago...gave me a good reason to keep livin', and I'm gonna keep on livin' and watchin' ya do good things. 'Cuz you gave ME a shot to move on after my mom died. You gave ME somethin' to look forward to when nobody else gave me a chance...and you were, are, and always will be the greatest blessin' God has ever given me.
Jack nodded his head proudly, slowly hunching over to give Fiona a kiss. She blinked her left eye, taking in the moment his words began to sink in, and gently kissed him back. He stood up, heading back towards the dining room...
FIONA MCFLY:
I love you...
...only for her soft, caressing sentence to stop him dead in his tracks. He looked back at her, watching with a sense of inner peace, as she returned to her open book. Fiona had been on this journey with him for so many years, filled with its ups and downs and all that jazz; yet in the end, even she knew that the biggest storms that raged in her heart would eventually subside, giving her comfort in knowing that with every journey, there's always a fresh step.
And with her pink-ink pen, she noted that journey in a brief poetic passage, making her fresh steps come to life.
When sadness burns inside,
or anger pierces your mind,
Don't ever worry about the past,
for a new day will soothe your heart;
Even as the world we love
tears itself apart...
~TO BE CONTINUED~
~~~
(2/2)
Oh Sara...
Once upon a time, you were considered one of the more up-and-coming talents Imperial had ever seen. You will primed for a good run, sharing the spotlight equally with your sister Paige and prove to the planet that the both of you were the best twin sister in wrestling--even far superior to the likes of, say, Amber and Kayla Richards.
Then...something terrible happened.
Instead of becoming a doer, you became nothing more than a mere observer. You watched as your sister, regardless of how boastful she really was, became one of the most dominant people in IWF. You let yourself become passed over by the more "superior" names instead of toiling away at your own game 'til you got it right. You even participated in the disrespect of a championship belt 'cos you didn't want anything and everything to get in the way of what the Garcia name stands for.
Winning, winning, winning...by any means necessary I might add. In your mind Sara, the "brand" motto tells you that failure is NOT an option.
Newsflash--it doesn't matter how good you are as a wrestler, as a singer, or whatever field of work you choose. 'Cos life isn't about championships, gold-plated records, or whatnot.
It's much deeper than that--deeper than you can even BEGIN to imagine.
Here's the thing...we don't live in a world filled with endless sunshine, ornate palm trees, or whatever fantasy you might contrive out of nowhere. It's a very cruel, vile, FOUL place with people WORSE THAN those who want to do nothing else except boast their accomplishments whilst hiding behind others when nothing goes their way, afraid of getting out of somebody else's shadow! And I don't care how successful you are, or how obnoxiously loudmouthed you really WANT to be, 'cos there are those who will stop at nothing to beat your arse into the pavement, snap you from limb to limb, and permanently END you if you let the world get to you.
You can hit hard--but guess what? So can I. Yet NOTHING on this planet will hit as hard as life itself--after all, God is smarter than what people think.
Sometimes I feel as if I'm wasting me breath by saying it, but I'm not saying it 'cos I want to say it...but 'cos I'm COMPELLED to do so even if it meant being a little repetitious. Yet deep down...the feeling is universal, that it doesn't matter how hard you can hit. It's about how hard you can GET hit--how mucn punishment you can really take--whilst keeping on living! That's the prime directive--the CENTRAL hallmark--to becoming a Champion, no matter what line of work you choose, in a world that will KILL you if you let it!
That's how you become a real winner and a real Champion.
If you truly believe that you are fully capable of staning on your own two feet and outside Paige's shadow, then go ahead, get up off your arse, and DO IT! Don't go crying over your own self-worth, get out there and TAKE IT! But there's always a catch...you've got to be willing to take the hits! You've got to stop pointing fingers at other people and saying "how dare you insult me, how dare you to this or that to me and take away me dream of being Champion!"
Fuck's sake, that's what COWARDS do--that's not you, lovely. You're BETTER than that!
You have a chance to step out of Paige's shadow. You have the chance to prove to the masses that you can work out on your own, as a complete individual and not just someone playing second fiddle to anyone else. But unless you're able to accept that fact that failure and loss are parts of the journey we ALL are taking, then you're not going to have a pleasant time 'cos you'll know NOTHING of what to do.
Believe me...I WILL make you humble. I WILL stretch you farther than you've ever been stretched before. And I WILL push you to your breaking points, until you realise that the only way you're going to survive in this cruel, vile, foul world...
...is by just being yourself. Even if it means living with the prospect of failure.
Cheerio!
Well howdy there pardner.