the truth of the matter
we live with ourselves day in and day out, but somehow, that image in the mirror can still be fuzzy. such is the case for me. to be utterly cliche, i’m still trying to figure out me. who i am: my reactions, my emotions, my dreams, my hopes, my perceptions, my brain, and my heart.
how can it be there we are such a person and can at times be completely unaware of ourselves?
i’ve come to the conclusion lately that a lot of people in my life know me better than i know myself. why do i have to wait for others to fill me in on me?
i’m tired of being an enigma.
