I feel awful. Disjointed and unable to relate to others. Oh to start over and grow straight, the tree thinks as its trunk, contorted by envrions unnatural, attempts to realign itself, to seek the heavens proper. Does anyone ever find catharsis? The foundation is marbles and the load tacks on; how do you walk tall? Is man but a jenga tower, teetering? Oh Maslow, how you've defined me. Now can you fix me?
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It probably won't be beneficial to our walking tall & we'll probably teeter, but at least we can have fun doing so.