But what are insecurities but failures in the visions of ourselves?
On one hand I realize that I must contend with the forces of better claims than mine - theirs are perhaps more beautiful, fancy, fine. On the other, I realize that being and receiving should not stop with the senses. In this insistence I find hope, for who can really say that their vision is necessarily better?
Some nights I dream of rainbows too - with tinges of red and yellow and blue.
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