I may never do the things I imagine. I may fail at every dream. I may never accomplish, succeed, become. Anything. I may never find the energy or the will or the want. To work enough. Produce enough. Do enough. I may never be the product of envy for any other person looking at my life. But I will be conscious. I will be aware. I will be open. And willing to recognize. My priorities. My loves. My capacity to live. As honestly. And genuinely. As me can. And I will not add up my life. As a calculation of quantifiable living described by any other person or culture. Who goes by any other name. Than me.