What You Said.

That I hide in metaphors.

I hide in them because what business is it of the world to know the whos, the wheres and wherefores of my speck of a life in the infinity of space?

Besides, metaphors make me bleed less but still stay here to remind me of the marks I have made in my quarter-life. Or one-third of a spent-life as my statistician friend said. I'll take his word for it.

I dare not tell the details of the deceptions, happinesses, heartbreaks, madnesses, confusions, anxieties (and such) that have passed and are passing through my life... at least most of the time anyway... for I do not ask for anybody's allegiance nor judgment.

I simply ask for the release of saying the things that are begging to be let out of my soul.