Dear me! Twenty-one years after writing this, I read it and wonder why, if I could see inside myself and express my fears so clearly, why did it take me so long to do something about it?
There are cracks in my shell
Where the tears slip through
For I am a stone only to outward view.
I have fears and confusion and I am not strong.
I am too scared to pursue things for which I long.
Scared of failure and of rejection.
Scared that no one will see that my differences and quirks
Do not lessen me.
I have faith in myself but no faith in the rest.
It makes me sad to know that to be accepted
I must pass society's test.
My other choice is to be a freak.
The ones who are different and think for themselves must stay
Because they are unique.
(written on Dec 8th 1984, 10.30 p.m.)