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August 25, 2008
I feel immature and out-of-control, whenever I become worried about the affections of a woman. Specifics donít matter. Whether I fear being unable to gain her esteem, or that I shall lose it upon a misstep of some mine or irresolution of hers, or knowing I am incapable of returning a friendís offered love, I tighten up and constrict inside. To avoid introspection: I know these things to be all falsenesses, as intangible as myth and lacking any root in reality. But I marvel at emotions and passions that become as unmanageable as a California wildfire, finding myself so inflammable.