Consumed by a internal landscape of how to get from one to the other. What is the light, what is my light. I understand the darkness I get that. What does my light look like. Do I need to find it or merely embrace it? That image of the sunny smiley person isn’t me. When I smile, I smoulder or bounce in irreverent joy. But even in joy, I am serious. I may look stern or angry but that’s just surface. Below is either turmoil or placid or passion. I have to choose. Acting as I see neccesary is nature to me. I can’t suppress my desires, my ebbulance. But I’m quiet. And I am certain about things and that is taken for smug or arrogant. I know things. I see things. There is a mystical side to me. And in that area I have definite ideas. It’s in my relationships that I am uncertain. Even my friendships. Not because I don’t know who I am. But because I do. And I know that I can be a bit like a ocean. Deep and easy to drown in. I can be a storm swift and dangerous. I can be fog, unknown and unknowable. I don’t know.