Don't FLUTCH with yourself

Note: this was all done in the name of boredom during careers class and the fact that there was this lonely sheet of lined paper that needed a home.
(to further explain) A blank sheet of paper stares me down, the unknown calling seductively. In short moments gone, a pencil in hand, I am covering the blinding emptiness, my hand smudging the lead.
(I try to use fancy words people, I try) In running from fear we produce anger or a replicate of the distraught. The farther, the faster, the harder we run, the fright, which has hitherto been ignored, shapeshifts. No more can be seen of what we left behind, but less visible shapes slither forward, ominous. Fleeing from it all has ceased to be an answer, and so we stand, our souls sluggish from torturous exertions of the past. The presence of the encroaching becomes more apparent. We cannot help but let it swallow us, soothing and searing simultaneously. The mosaic of emotions put before us is a release, and so clears the conscience of any reason not to linger in peace, however enthralling the alternative may seem. We are now wise with the knowledge that we ought not meddle in the myriad of feelings we encounter.