“With my reckless behavior it was commonplace to beat down others for my own benefit. I found myself alone. Ridiculously alone . . . an unnecessary beating of wills.”
“my story grew heftier, full of confusion and grief. It became second nature for me to practice and recite my lines for my dramatic sob story. My fishbowl was filled with murky water and I had become so accustomed to it that my clarity was absolutely distorted.”
“My busyness eventually caught up with me. When my world stopped spinning for a moment, I realized my productivity didn’t have much to show for itself. My forward began to rotate backward. And, my band aid had finally started to lose its stickiness.” .