This is my cage. My anxieties. Flaming walls of indecision. A miry slag of worry polluted with others' disapproval. Plumes of despair that sweetly whisper of soul-destroying compliance, surrender and suicide. Have dominion? What a joke! No, this is just surviving the chaos within and I am a Player achingly close to falling yet clinging to what Self remains. What will my Monument, my identity, become? Will I live in dismal conformity? Or will Risk be the play? And free, self-defining vitality, the victory.

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