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Afraid of being seen, even now.
Afraid of my consciousness being heard aloud.
Yet afraid to keep it inside, as it is paralysing me.
Disintegrating me from within.
A burst of awesomeness would not go astray.

Screaming from the inside, trying so hard not to let it reach the outside.
I cannot be bemused by complacency. Where are the feelings?
Volcanoes bubble violently, waiting below the surface.

Life seems to just move for some people from one purchase to another. One meal to another, nothing in between.

Why?

Does not seem like an existence to me.

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