I like to pretend that I'm still just a caterpillar, eating all that I can in hopes that everything I take in will eventually be the things that transform what I am into something pretty. Maybe I'm just a late bloomer, because this sure is taking a long time. I'm probably one of the most patient people I've ever known, and yet when it comes to this I always seem to be balancing on the borderline, swaying. As more and more time goes by, faster and faster I'm eating myself.

I'm awaiting a metamorphosis that might not happen.

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