as an artist and a writer, how is it that I avoid looking at some harsh truths …. I do really wonder. I believe this is the missing link in my brain.i know this sounds ridiculous; like satire, but i know I avoid harsh truths but I know most people do. But —me….? I should know better. The real problem is, to look at the truths would disarm me to the point of a kind of self extinction. I could not mentally handle the truths. I know this. I’m not an idiot. I am consciously aware this is the crux of the reason behind why I do this. why should, for instance, why—should I avoid the sleeping monster in my closet that only awoke by some unexpected Heathcliff that for the longest time knew what it was but that was not the cause of whatever drew me.so, unexpected but how to look at the restless need to reach inside the closet because the monster is not really such a monster but maybe a bit of a beast.the weird contradictions of me and experiences that left some nasty scars has me wondering what it is I am so most afraid in there to have to keep on avoiding—is it hypocrisy?or is it only that silly thing no one should ever believe in—Stockholm syndrome trust?what a most erotic and dangerous monster
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