I’m peccable not impeccable prone to making mistakes to falling down and getting up i keep to myself i’ll hide behind the scenes i don’t always like to talk always preferring to listen to anything you want to say my life is dances to a rhythm known only to myself there is a routine (home-work home) in the chaos everything else gets fit in somehow
you’d never even notice me in a crowd certainly not the life of the party you’d never even miss me i was hardly there in the first place there is never a plan just an agreement with myself to cross every bridge when I come to it my plans are too messy to be reliable you won’t find anyone who knows me really difficult to be understood but eager to understand to lend a helping hand i live mostly inside my own head making up stories as i go along open to every kind of ending always exploring some new idea my inner world is what charges my batteries its here that everything comes alive where electric stuff happens and possibilities come pouring out