the more i think about what has transpired, the more i want to dig into it, hold it, bite it and then spit it.
someone once said to me, "you're like the party pooper, why do you have to be this way?" i don't have the answer really but then again, perhaps i do. if i think hard enough, i probably could attribute my party pooperism nature to one of my greatest fears which is the fear of not being accepted.
acceptance by my family, by a friend, by a colleague, by anyone that comes into contact with me. the fear gets a little overwhelming at times and it blinds me. any immediate sign of disagreement sets me off in a defense mode. almost too immediately.
what can i say.
maybe Freud could share some thoughts.
perhaps.
it's late now and i must therefore, go.
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