Sometimes I feel araneous.
At times I am transparent. If you knew me you would be able to see right through my words, my actions, my silences, my inactions. Perhaps even those who don't know me can read my body language and pull out what's really behind every twist or turn, every flick of my hair, every smile or sigh.
I am also delicate. I'm an emotional hurricane destroying everything in my path. I'm a tiny timid turtle hiding in my shell, away from everyone, away from everything, away from the world. I'm a weeping willow, my limbs drooping and sagging matching my mood. My heart is fragile. My feelings are easily trampled. My hopes are easily dashed when attacked. Despite my strong front, my attempt to hide my vulnerability, I'm but a humble wafer cookie, easily crumbled when prodded too roughly.
I am like a spider's web, transparent and delicate, convulted, intricately woven. But I am human, and perhaps I am foolish to believe such a thing but, I believe all humans are delicate, all humans are complex, and all humans are capable of being transparent. Therefore, I believe all humans are araneous.