The search for self is the longest and hardest search of all.
Hidden behind a veil of tears.
Laden with a thousand trials.
More ephemeral than a dream.
More true than truth has any right to be.
The self is the most difficult of all things to find because it hides deep within me.
Never far away, but always lingering on that edge that turns into nothing with a breath.
I seek it with fear and trembling.
Because I may find it and not recognize it.
Or not want to admit it is me.
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