I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks.
Hurl yourself at goals above your head and bear the lacerations that come when you slip and make a fool of yourself. Try always, as long as you have breath in your body, to take the hard way–and work, work, work to build yourself into a rich, continually evolving entity.
Only I wasn't steering anything, not even myself.
It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.
A black-sharded lady keeps me in a parrot cage.
The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.