Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism

I didn't risk all.
Went for greatness... but left booby-traps for myself along the way - false tunnels. Fake obstacles. Faux distractions.
[Scapegoats.]
Places where it was evident to anybody who looked closely that I wasn't throwing my all into it.
And in doing so I betrayed myself.

Why?
So when I failed I didn't look 'silly'. So it was My choice to Fail. Under My Control. It wasn't that I gave it my all and they rejected me for that... it was that I gave it some, and evidently that wasn't enough.
My self-preservation destroyed the possibility of greatness.


And thus the [constant] question;

-What Now?-


Oh to be a motley fool!
May I never be content. May I never be perfect.