Lately I have found myself wanting more, by wanting less. I have been complicating things by trying to make them simpler. Irony at its finest.
Past few weeks have been harrowing, have had some circumstances arise that have put me to the test, and yet the struggle is internal, not external.
This weekend I had three people tell me I was a mean person, and each of them came to apologize later, stating that I wasn't mean, they just misunderstood. Perhaps I am mean, I'm not sure. I'm certainly not ill-intentioned, as far as I know, but perhaps there is a certain meanness to truth. Perhaps its not so much as the intention or content, but perhaps, the delivery. Ashamedly, I wouldn't have my delivery any other way. That's indulging in self-loathing narcissism at its core.
