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Hollow-Holler

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2005-04-19 - 12:34 p.m.

My life is riding my back like a mule. I am gumming and worrying it like a glue stick at my teething jaw.
I am afraid of being in any other state than the one that I exist in, whatever state that may be. It changes too much, with very little regard, and it's flippancy is alarming to me. I am not content, but I am afraid of another way. And so I am serially discontent, yet not willing out of fear, to change it.
What does it mean that I feel like my life changes itself, without my hand at all?
I want to be a brave person. I admitted to a work-boy, on break in the gym, that I am insecure. I told him because he feels like he can see other's insecurity, yet he gets none from me. I told him that I don't see how that could be.

I wear my insecurities like a moldy cape. I am not secured, and I am not that strong.