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.