Grotesqueness

Maybe it’s a sort of grotesqueness that lives within me; that has lived within me since the moment I became myself. And so even though on occasions, or even stretches of time, where I feel like I’ve finally expunged it – somehow, when I am not careful, or perhaps at times overzealous, I become grotesque again. I see it in the multitudinous reflections of myself, and I feel terrible. How to correct it?

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