Hi, bots.

You outnumber any (probable) normal visitors 20-1, so presumably, I’m writing for you more than anyone else.

That’s not true. I write for me more than anything. I don’t self-promote like I used to, partially because I don’t have much to say of consequence, at least for a space like this. I don’t even know what this space is, to be quite honest. And yet I continue to pay the $0 a year (plus domain fees) to host this site (thank you, Groupon) to post random songs and lines and quotations that fit my mood.

So here’s one for you, and by you, I mean me.

I am incredibly afraid of the future.

It’s not a fear that things won’t work out. They have, and I suspect they will again. History does tend to repeat itself. But it’s a fear that it won’t work out just the way I want it to. Or maybe a fear that I’ll let people down. It’s also a fear that I don’t know everything I need (or want) to know to make the “best” decisions; an insecurity about what people feel about me.

It’s weird. It’s not the same insecurity that I used to have. I remember it, almost like a 3×5 – I’m not good looking enough, I’m not funny enough, I’m not charismatic enough, I’m not fit enough, I don’t have enough hair. These questions no longer haunt me – for the most part…I’m still worried about the hair. But there’s an insecurity that’s keeping me up until 2:45 in the morning – an insecurity that in the end, even though the end is Good, it’s still not what I want right now.

If you, and by you I mean you and not me, happen to come across this and think something’s wrong, there isn’t. Just life. I need an outlet that’s pseudo-public because I process better to an audience, even if they’re imaginary.

So, this is me. Listing out my fears. In vague and abstract terms. To confess, if only to myself, that I’m afraid. And that confession’s a good place to start.

I’m still afraid I’ll regret this.
And I’m still a little afraid I’ll be Tyrese.
But mostly the other ones, too.

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