Often I’ve realized it’s hard for people to understand me, or perhaps I make it difficult for them to. My heart needs to be seen, but my head wants it to cover up. My voice wants my ideas to be heard, but instead it says ordinary stuff. I want both structure and security, yet I jump on planes spontaneously. Everything in me rests in a calm normality, yet everything in me functions with creative hypersensitivity. I am quiet, yet talkative. Brash, yet meek. Practical, yet impulsive. Appreciative, but also fault-finding. My entire personality is active and joyous, but my soul is troubled and sad. This is my contradiction. It’s as simple and complex as that.