Insecurity kills all that is beautiful.

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Insecurity is what brings one down. No matter how confident one used to be.

As I grow older, the reality slapped me harder. As I may seem to be more confident in life, I am, in fact, getting more inferior than I used to be. I am not who I used to be.

I don’t usually speak what’s in my mind or pouring out feelings and secrets. But when I do, it’s a bomb. & usually, it can be too much for those who listen.  Sometimes, when I think about it, should I? Can I trust them? Honestly speaking, I don’t really know. The secret was so big that I couldn’t keep it as a secret to myself.

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