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| C-3P0 2-16-13 |
There are days when it feels like my protective shell has been peeled back and I am stripped bare. The sensation is raw, like exposed nerves under an onslaught of weightless invisible air that turns suddenly and unbearably harsh. I try to cover up, to turn away, to somehow shield my fragile, hyper-sensitive self from the sharp edges of discomfort, to mask the pain. But a mask is terribly insufficient protection for a whole self under siege, a self that needs to be properly and tightly swaddled, re-wrapped, bound up, tucked in and held snugly together.
