when decisions were to be made, i was likely to falter. i’d become aware of it immediately, feel burdened by a sense of rush, and then hastily choose incorrectly. my decisiveness resembled my lack of navigational direction. i’d hated change, always, and i would hide from it. my weakness was thick and obvious. still, despite this hideous display of ugliness, i’d continue to strut with a certain arrogance, making it all the worse.
who was i?
and why did the air seem to grow thick the moment my proud, unworthy foot stepped into a room?