day one hundred and ninety : being fine is a lack of passion

i wish 

i had never known

for a while

when i had decided i was a writer

nothing scared me

i would walk at night through unknown lands fearlessly

and think

even if i am disfigured, beaten, raped

i can just write about it

it will be an experience

it will be a story

maybe that is when i plummeted

when i realized i could fail

and be fine

sometimes i really wish it wasn't in me

to be fine

sometimes i wonder
how weak
how cowardly
being fine is