Self-expression is the choice between satisfying the stirrings of my emotional conscience and burning bridges. Good behavior makes me feel like a soloist in a symphony with an indifferent, but hostile audience. Play flawlessly and the audience is silent, but hit a wrong note and receive hisses and jeers.
I don’t want to be difficult, disagreeable or MEAN, but I can be. I don’t want to be different for the sake of being unique, such contrivances are pedestrian antics of a lost soul. I’m no longer lost, but I haven’t reached my destination either. But I am/can be different because we cannot ALL BE THE SAME. In my circle of reality, I am the lone femme–single, never married and childless.
I am an oxymoron moving within the flow of life. I go unnoticed and then a malfunction Read more of this post