A Series of Bad Self-Portraits

There are some stories that take courage to tell. These are the stories about darkness and our encounters with odd creatures. These stories rarely have happy endings and illuminate anguish in its purest form. These are the stories that will make you cringe and leave you counting pages. These are the stories about my inability to count sheep, even though I crave to concentrate on anything but this endless abyss.

But I also have told tales of laughter and unexpected kisses. These are the tales of life after love and discovering the secrets of the universe while sipping tea.  My life is a combination of both, it is neither solely constituted of sad stories nor colorful tales. My life is a series of bad self-portraits. For even when I know myself I do not; all I have ever known are ideas of myself.