There is something about being exposed. Completing exposed. The shedding of preconceived notions, the shedding of falsities, mascara, clothing, masks.
When I think of what it means to be exposed I think of standing before something naked. The feeling sends chills up my spine but tickles my curiosity. I'm intrigued by it and afraid of it all the same. It's like breathing your first bit of air and at the same time your last.
Mentally I have streaked many. Walking onto a field bare on wet grass succumbing to the elements. Wetness on the bottom of my feet from the morning dew. Slipping off my top layer of skin, feeling the heat of the sun against my flesh but not running from the exposure. But in my field no one is there and yet I tremble at the thought. It's like it's harder to shed myself to no-one than it is to everyone.
But maybe that's just it. Maybe my nervousness stems from my fear of exposing myself...to...myself...
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