I feel like a caged bird freed. There is something quite ironic now that I am finally freed from my sell my soul to the devil job, I find myself paralysed, tittering around aimlessly, fearful of flying full force to pursuing my dreams.
This is supposed to be my time, the renaissance of me, where I flourish in my creativity. Every (now very free) second and minute should be used to write, read and draw, but its just not happening.
So I am still hovering within the comfort of my cage. The door is opened, but I am just not stepping out. I am sure there is much psychobabble as to the exact workings of this, but I just want to grab myself and give me a good shake, "wake up bitch!".
I will fly out soon, I promise.
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