Through life's toughest moment's, fantasy characters show more strength and durability than many of the people who watch and strive to be like them.
Now that's not a bad thing, in-fact it's an incredible thing to do. To better yourself to become better. But lot's of people lose motivation to keep pushing themselves. Something that the Channel Unnus Annus taught me, was that you only have a limited time to live and that death happens sooner than later.
So why must we strive to become something that we idol?
Why must people break down who they are and mold them into something that they see all the time.
Why waste the time changing who you are entirely and make yourself into some sort of Hero or perfect citizen when in the end most people will give up and end up in a worse situation (either mentally or physically) than they were before trying to be some-one else?
Don't live trying to be like someone else. I'm not saying to simply stop idolizing people or trying to be similar to them.
In-fact, what I'm saying is,
Try to be something better than what you are now, try to live like your next day is another day isn't your last, but instead, another day to learn from those idol's.
Push yourself to become better than those idol's, push yourself to become the person that YOU want to be, not a person that already exists in the mind of one other person (the creator).
Cause in the end, if you try to be just like your idol, you'll either achieve this and become someone different entirely, or you'll end up worse off than you were originally.
Many people don't know where to start, and everybody will have a different answer as to where. "Start on what you hate, work on your emotions, or start on your body". But to people who are lost in their journey, this won't always help, in-fact, it can push them further back past where they started. That person must discover their own path, their own journey.
All that matters, is that you're at the very least starting
With a simple step.

A walk through the journey of life,
taking a stroll on the beach side
Looking into oblivion as the sea meets the sky
The dark of nights engulfs my soul
poisoning my mind and raising questions.

"Who am I?"
"What do I stand for?"
"Do I have a purpose?"

The questions echo in my head,
the darkness mocks me with silence
and then it struck me.
My existence was never  meant to be.

I’ve grown numb
And accustomed to
Whatever that was deemed
Extraordinary.
Does this make me dull
If the complexity of the universe
Has become
Ordinary?
No longer a stranger or an enigma
To my inner experience?
Does this make me boring
If I no longer find joy
In discovering something
Unsurprising?
For when you
Constantly dwell and live
In the unknown
Is it really a big deal
To find something unexpected?
I mean... what did you expect anyway?

I am more interested in human interactions
In the consequences
And the causes
Of my actions
And I have internalised the outside world
And the outside wonders and
Discipline and harmony
Has become my quest and
My childish discovery.

What is in a name?
An identifier. Christine. Paul. Bernard.
A sense of uniqueness. Foxy. The Rock. Buddy.
A personality. John. Chad. Karen.
A name is something to hold onto.

What is my name?
A label to keep me concrete when people forget
A phrase to pull me back down when I drift
An identity so that I don't mold into everyone else
My name keeps me together

But what does my name sound like?
I forgot where I placed my strengths
I forgot the way it was shaped to my body
My person slips away from the letters as they form into your mouth
and get lost in the bottomless sea of identifiers

Who am I?
Billboards and signs that paint "fragile" across a face like mine
Small, petite, figures that whisper "prey" and warn me of the big bad wolves
Unfamiliar faces that tell me that I am "too much" as my bones grind against them and their hands try to cup me smaller
there is nothing to keep me from vanishing

Who am I?
Worker # 187, making a dime as they make a dollar?
A father's daughter, a person to be handed and never to stand on it's own?
Am I my weakest moments?
Am I my triumphs?

Who am I?
My own mocking voice screaming, giggling, obscenities before I catch myself
My own motherly tone re-directing me from the bad roots in my childhood
I am this thing and then I am another
We are so inconsistent, as people

We forget to keep our names close to our hearts
To choose our own identities,
let ourselves remind each other that we are
who we choose to be.

My name, it echoes against the cages of my body
and it wraps around me
reassuring me, reminding me, piecing me back together
breathing life back into me.

Amid the rubble
Of four dim millennia peeled back
A square of carved steatite lay
Lifted
Gently as a gossamer hope
To reveal
That mythic beast
A single horn curving
From its striated head
Whose fame reached Grecian ears
From Indus bed
Across miles & years
Leaving an inkmark murmur

Who are you?
a Samaritan?
a saint?
an evil person?

Who are you?
that's right
you might think you are useless
trust me been there

But you are the person you say you are.
so pick up that mirror
and tell the world who is boss.
Because you are  
glorious
Magnificent
Lovable