Looming in Mediocrity

I wouldn't consider this a poem, or an essay, so its just something random I wrote. 

"I have always found myself to be stuck between mediocrity and success, a sort of limbo. 

Many things I wish to do I never fulfill out of fear of failure or disappointment,

so my ideas remain within.

Art, mainly. 

I want to make art, any art of any kind, 

but my technical abilities are thwarted by my negligence.

I despise myself for this phenomenon,

and I am my worst critic.

So whatever I may write,

I will *always* hate.

I will *always* consider incomplete.

I have wanted to make art of any kind ever since I was younger, 

and I had true passion behind what I wanted to do.

But as I grew older, 

I began to hate whatever I created, 

comparing myself to those around me,

or those I consider to be influential.

My ideas are locked within,

a ruling of unlawful imprisonment could be made,

if I were to try at whatever outlet I want to take on.

Self-loathing or confidence,

the border in between I lie.

The only solution appears to be to put whatever I can out into the world...

Thank you...!"