phoenix {rising} |
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Waffle, Waffle, Waffle. On the other hand: Remember the excited-safe feeling? Remember, remember? Hold onto it. You could tell him that he makes you feel excited and safe. On the one hand: Don't be ridiculous. I can feel the excited-safe feeling fading, fizzling and going out. It doesn't last, it never lasts, it doesn't mean anything. Then the other hand goes limp. Maybe I'm just too tired? I am addled for lack of sleep. The safeness is still kind of kicking around my right shoulder. That's interesting. But I spoke at the speakout. I did something I thought I couldn't do. On Friday I got up in front of a substantial bunch of people and said, choked up and nearly crying, that unlike several other speakers, my issues of intellectual inadequacy are minimal compared to my inability to speak as a person. Just as a person. I said I think I have to start. Telling John I feel safe with him would be a start. I've surprised myself before. Couldn't I do it again? If I told me, it wouldn't be a surprise. Oh God, not enough sleep. I was supposed to be staying up late to write the paper due tomorrow. Eep. |
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