STOP

Dear God,
   I don't know if you intend success and fame for me.
   You probably don't.
   I don't know I want that sort of success. I appreciate anonymity, but you'll have to forgive my daydreams. I can't always predict what I'll think next. My mind is as unbridled as my tongue. No; all the more unbridled because no one knows what I think not unless I give them permission to know.  I am the master of what I reveal, not of what I hide.
   But despite not wanting success and fame I keep hearing in my head "STOP" and I don't want to stop. What's telling me to stop, and why is it telling me to stop?
   What will happen if I stop? Who cares if I stop?
   I should.
   But if I stop...
   Stopping's not so dark as dying.
   Is stopping, to me, some sort of failure I won't be able to overcome? But I can overcome any failure, right?
   Maybe I want to make sure I'm doing something important.
   Is it weird that I don't want to be important but I only want what I do to be important? No, that's not true. I also want to be important. If I stop, I'll never know how I can be important.
   That's weird, and I'm okay with that.
   Don't let me stop, God.
   Thank you for your plans for me. I don't know what they are, but I don't care- you've got them. I'll keep going to see if the path changes or not.
   I love you, God.