_{^{~Groovin' With Soccamom~}}

I'm not sure where to start. The thoughts and musings that accompany me throughout the day seem to haunt me as if of their own accord they seek release. Battering at the defenses of my psyche, these silent screams beg to be heard. A validity, a purpose, a sense of being as if the putting of pen to paper (figuratively, here) give them a life. They become their own entity. Too often I suppress this need for communication for fear of rejection, humiliation, a rebuttal or a commentary that I'm not willing to engage in or defend against. The exposure of an inner being that I have so carefully wrapped, embalmed and buried leaves me quivering inside at the thought of being so mentally exposed. The careful peeling back of these layers is an endeavor that I am hesitantly willing to undertake albeit at this point it will still be a solitary endeavor.
Whether or not this journey of self revelation will ever find the light of day or the joy of camaraderie remains to be seen. This may become yet another exercise in futility as I retreat to my ever waiting shell of self preservation.
*
1/28/2004 10:22:00 PM



~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~