Reading majic's journal

Everyday I have this monkey on my back called self doubt. I shake violently to rid myself of this plague and it sits there with it's claws buried inside my flesh. I'm tired. I'm sick and tired of this disease of my mind that is all consuming. What must I do to travel into the land of success?

No matter how much I read or learn I never get any better at anything, it's a worthless journey into a black world. I could sit for years and read and exercise and never get any better than before I started.

Where oh where is the key to success? Where is the door? Fuck where is the building or city that success dwells? This brain of mine is not a sponge, it's a fucking rock and I'm trying to soak information into it but it just beads off and falls to the floor below.

I'll sit here contently trying to turn my rock into a sponge by some arcane process of alchemy. I'll sit here and try to teach this rock a trick or two. I'll sit here and dwell in the pity that is my own shit. For one day I'll kill this GOD forsaken monkey that is burying his goddamn claws into my back. Self doubt is my enemy and my life mission is to kill it and throw it away.