I fear for the world, if there are others like me.

I always thought that my mind was weak. Not weak in the fact that I didn't have an ounce of intellect to fill its gap. My mind is weak in that it has never been able to hold much of what life pours into it. One negative conversation would drop a load of weight that would leave me unable to lift my head to see the sun rise of tomorrow. My mind could never hold the weight of the real world, as my father would call. It never had a firm grip on what he would describe as "a tough world, baby"
Afraid. ( Fear has it’s on ego, hasn’t it? ) Afraid of what may lay outside in the new world.
The real world… it’s as unreal as anything else out there. Situations can be manipulated to favor some and hurt others.
I fear for all the creativity that will never develop and die lame and unused.

There are certain things that I wish could share with you, so you could understand it, me, better.