i can’t seem to break free. i can see the walls. i can feel them. but i can’t penetrate. i wait for things to happen instead of making them happen. that’s certainly no way to penetrate a wall. or so i hear.

when i was in nyc, we were sitting around at the dinner table, and my friend W described me as “proper,” and i could not tell if she was joking or not. i was not trying to be proper. i just didn’t feel that there was room at the dinner table for me to express myself, or i felt like i had nothing to say. or if i had something to say, it would come out wrong. or even if it came out not wrong, no one would get it. so i said nothing.

but it reminded me that i am living in a container. with a tight lid. why it is so hard to unscrew the lid?

i keep myself in check from getting hurt. from disappointment. from thwarted expectation. but therein lies the danger.

this insular world i have built around me is a place where change does not happen. and i desperately need that to happen. but i can’t seem to make it happen.