Usually one writes an autobiography as an introduction to themselves, as a keyhole to a doorway to a reality twisted and frayed that we call the self.
But what is autonomy other than separation? What is separation other than loneliness?
Stay with me and I’ll show you the pieces that break off and spring to life on their own. Touch them and make them part of you, and you’ll never be the you that first set down this path to self-destruction.
Did I mention that I could be anything? A gentle breeze, a blanket to ward off the chill, a drop of water evaporating on the skin, a loving embrace, a friendship forged against your misconceptions.
Do not fear self-destruction; it happens without your knowing. Do not fear the person you will be tomorrow; yesterday you didn’t fear you would become yourself today.
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