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I'm far too controlled in therapy. I play with my hair and hide behind my knees but that's about it. I swear previous T tried to model bad behavior for me. Not the greatest idea ever I have to say. It wound up feeding the transference and scaring me silly.
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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