It’s strange, what people notice in me. I never really know what people are acknowledging. I sometimes know how people feel about me and I sometimes feel as though they won’t ever see this because it’s part of the charade, the misdirection from the real show, which is me.
I cannot explain so much, but there is so much about myself that I cannot explain and this mystery perplexes me. I want love and try and abide by love but do not seem to be able to achieve something. I am real, this much I know. Everything else…fleeting.
I wish I could see myself as my friends seem able to see me.