"These Psycho-somatic symptoms, basically insecure, due to some long frustration may react..."
I have lost my voice. I am angry, anxious, and agitated. My insecurities have made their way out.
There is no explicable cause for such lamenting. I love my parents. My parents love me. What is the problem? Am I merely dillusional? Is it not a question of who (my parents) but a question of what (the responsibility of hosting such important foreigners in my own apartment)?
Whatever the cause, my presence state is frustrating irrational and inexplicable!
I need a psycho-analysis.
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3 comments:
This One's For You Skinny Rabbit
sexy. am I your psycho-analyst? My theory is that while we love our parents and they love us, we don't necessarily love who we are when we're with them. Because we're somewhat censored. We can't be the outrageous, fabulous people that we've come to be since we've been on our own. I actually have a blog post in my head on that subject, but I haven't been in the mood to write it yet. It's coming, though.
Go To IT!
(Now Life Really Begins?)
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