I am strange and I am complicated. at times I am certain of who I am, and sometimes I do not have a clue. I am this and I am that, twisted and imperfect. simple, but complex.

I am full of life, and endless thoughts. I talk to much, and sometimes not enough. my words do not always make sense, I  drive myself as crazy as I drive others. I am always searching for beauty in everything, including disaster.