Moscato at Midnight

A lot of people don’t know who I am.

No not in an enigmatic way. Not in a Batman or Spiderman kind of way.

Very few people really see me for who I am. Very few people really know who I am.

I don’t blame them.

I’m not an easy one to figure out.

I wish I was.

But I myself, have a hard time figuring my own self out.

I think I’ve always known who I’m supposed to be, I’ve always known what I want to be, I’ve always known who everyone else is expecting me to be. But who I really am, my real self – that’s a little tricky.

And the thing with people is that it’s either they don’t know who you are at all, or they know things about you that aren’t really true.

I think the latter is the worse one.

That could be the case for me.

Sure, I’ve put up some high walls. But that’s only so because I’ve been misunderstood – and that’s possibly the worst feeling ever.

But then again, surely people are always more than willing to understand, should I only try a little harder to explain.

But exactly how can I explain something that I myself, cannot understand.

So you see, it’s not all deliberate.

 

 

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