My morning warm-up for thesis writing produced something a bit raw and personal, but I think some of you might relate to the feelings. I posted it on my other blog as it is not fiction, let me know your thoughts.
Every day, I wear an ugly necklace. It’s a sterling raven skull slung on top of a cog by a short chain and a leather cord; and I made it myself.
I used to think that “those people” who wore punk, Goth, or other counter-cultural styles were all looking for attention. I had them all pretty well pegged. Their choices in style echoed silent screams of insecurity.
“What does it take to get your love and attention?”
“Will you love me no matter what I do, no matter what I look like?”
“Stay away. I will not be betrayed by love again.”
I thought I had it all figured out and chose for myself the most culturally bland and accommodating styles so as not to likewise appear so insecure. I made myself plain and ordinary, an ‘all things to all men’ kind of man.
Then something happened. What happened is…
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