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hang up? oh no, hang on
2007-06-24
4 8:48 p.m.

you wanna know? well come on, let's dig in. get on down to the meaty core, cause that's where the fun is - and by fun i mean, insanely tricky obstacles which need to be navigated, like a funhouse of doom and potential demise. enjoy the ride.
(this is a bit of an addendum to the aprilly museum began many years ago)
things that wig me out:
commitment... i really have no idea why. perhaps i only hear the connotations of the word in its usage with committing someone to an asylum. perhaps i hear the lack of freedom, choice, independence, inherent in that word. or i think i fear when i commit the other shoe will burst into flames, like the world will yank away what i have finally declared i want. yah, pessimism at its worst.
lack of control... control has been the only thing that has kept me sane all these 29 years. the shred, the scrap, the illusion of it is all i have sometimes, but i feel the desperate need for it, like air. and i'm not quite sure how to relinquish it.
lack of certainty... i want to know for sure. i want all the facts. i want to hear it all laid out bare for me so that i feel safe walking into the unknown, which is, of course an impossibility - if it were possible, then the unknown wouldn't be so unknown to begin with.
lack of preparation or competence... this goes along with the last one - if i feel i'm not good at something, or i'm not gonna be good at it, i'm not gonna go do it. that's just simple kid-resource self-preservation. it underlies a much deeper theme of me always wanting to project a calm cool collected exterior to the world, so at least i can fool them, if not myself.
trust... giving it in particular is a terrifying feat which i don't feel capable of.
vulnerability and/or openness... i think i've said it before, it's because of a deeply ingrained and previously proven belief that any tender part i show to the world will be used as a weak part to be poked and salted when someone wants to hurt me.
perfection and its expectations... my brain wants things just so, my gut just wants things, and never the twain shall me.

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