i have always

needed, and wanted, to write.
I have a story to live, share, write about.
I share it only in the hope that you might glean some insight into your own journey. Nothing else.
I'm lonely. And alone. My life is full. Yet empty. I'm whole. Yet you can see the cracks. I'm many things.
Mostly.
I'm flawed.
Full of positives and contradictions and shortcomings,
But flawed.
At war with myself. At peace with my place in the world.
Like Gatsby, I know appearances are everything. But i may not care what you think.
I know, and accept, that we are motivated by love (good) and fear. I try to avoid the fear and move toward the good. It isn't always easy.
Hence my war with myself at times.
But mostly.
I'm flawed.
I'm okay with that.