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320 of 365

I don’t like some words. I feel their connotations and implications are far more than what meets the eye. Like, protect, forever, eternity, life, always. You get the drift. They remind me of my own errors, even of only judgment.

I wished I didn’t remember anymore. Each time I felt vulnerable I inched back to the comfort of conformity or what I have known. I shut those doors many years ago. But some doors never really close but the wounds caused by them heal. The gentle touch of empathy, the beauty of time and the magic of words make way for a deep white space. The white space can be treacherous with its inability to resist being overwhelmed.

The inkling to perfect or to carve till perfection was in sight was another thing I wished to forget. Too slippery a slope it was to criticise, destruct and destroy. Behind this lie the wish to do better, be better, understand better. But mostly it was confounded by fear. A fear of trusting myself as I might be very wrong.

It all feels like rambling today. Random streams of consciousness strung together.

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