Am I more afraid Of taking a chance and learning I'm somebody don't know, or of risking new territory, only to find I'm the same old me? There is comforting the tried and true. Breaking ground might uncover a sinkhole, one impossible to climb out of. And setting sail in uncharted waters might mean capsizing into sea monster's jaws. Easier to turn my back on these things than to try them and fail. And yet, a whisper insists need to know if they are Oran't integral to me. Status quo is a swamp. And stagnation is slow death.

Perfect