I've never been someone anyone would understand. I think differently. I act differently. I believe differently. I'm different, to lay it all out there.

I can be a very nice person, that doesn't mean I am very often. I have to try. My behavior depends on my encounters. I should probably be more level, but where's the honesty in that? Level people don't rise and fall. I'm waiting to rise again.

I'd rather have a conversation with my dog or someone I'll never meet, than with someone that knows me. Pre-conceptions are funny that way. I suppose I perceive people perceive me inaccurately. They do, actually. But I do it too, except one would think I might know myself by now. With strangers (and dogs), there are no pre-conceptions. Or at least, those thoughts are hazy and not defined. I hate being defined. Maybe that's why I haven't figured myself out just yet, it's for the best. I feel more free this way.

I'm not free. I've never been free. There were times when I was held under someone's thumb, someone who didn't even have the right kind of grip. Then there are those times when obligation held me tight, I couldn't escape it. I still can't. Even without all of these forced bindings, I'm simply bound to tie myself to something or someone. I can't seem to help it. I need to be needed. But I want to be let go. I'm sure I'd feel differently if that were to actually happen though. There I go again, not knowing…

I don't believe in marriage, but if I did…I'd marry a handsome blueberry farmer. We'd grow blueberries and grow old, all at the same time. He'd play the harmonica on the front porch while we sipped on sweet tea and watched the sun go down every evening. The dogs would love to hear him play, and they'd sing along…you know how dogs do. The kids would think us odd and wonder why we never get bored, sitting on the same porch together. And we'd think the kids are funny. Because let's face it, young people get weirder all the time.

I have my doubts about time. It seems it always runs out. Maybe I get a late start. Maybe I ***** around too much. Maybe it's that way for everyone. I don't know. I guess I shouldn't waste my time worrying about it.

I don't trust things. I trust words though. That may sound odd, in that someone has to say them. More than likely, I won't trust that person. Words are honest, the thoughts behind them may not be. That is to be debated in the moments or even after the fact, I suppose. I guess I trust the written word more so, to be specific. Words are for always, even if the "say"ers are not.

I don't talk about myself very much, really. I converse with people…and dogs. I elaborate upon what I mean, and sometimes I share stories. But I'd rather talk about you. I'm not sure why I do that. But I just discovered it about myself. I like discovering things about myself. The one thing I've known for a long time is I am honest. That's one thing I pride myself on. I won't lie to myself or anyone else, not anyone that matters anyway. And if I choose to tell you something, more than likely you matter. So, trust me. I need you to.