Dear Diary:
My head is a wondrous and chaotic place to live, and people all around me call my attention to reality. It's often hard for me to be present, social interaction can be so draining and at times I find pointless. I know I too am guilty of wearing a mask in the presence of others, but I wonder if they grow as tired of it as I do? I am no egomaniac, its only that I am fascinated by the act of creation. My introverted nature clings to the aspect of solitary company. My books are my long time friends. Within the pages and ink I can get lost and be found. A similar phenomenon compounds within the depths of my own mind. By getting lost within my own universe I find truths I hide from my own self. And when those truths come to light, I discover another layer, another emotional texture to who I am. Ironically enough I've been described as empathetic, sympathetic, and open minded. I wonder if this is because I try in my own fumbled way to place myself in their situation. If I can try to see partially though the perspective they are sharing with me, then I can listen, understand, and maybe even help a milimeter. Yet I find it difficult to reveal myself to another. I hoard parts of me. Terrified to share and be rebuffed...
(Until later)
YOU ARE READING
Iridescent Pearls
ContoHello again, yes I'm still here. This new creation is an experiment. I am going to try my hand at fiction, a story being told through diary entries. It's going to be a work in progress, and a new venture for the year 2016. I will try to update, add...
