I love weaving a good story over drinks or during a sunrise, through a blog, or in bed. My stories are not exaggerated truths. Neither are they peppered with lies. My life is exaggerated and dishonestly led.
I don't know that it means anything to lead an exaggerated and often embarrassing life, a life that does not seem to be mellowing as I enter middle age. Maybe it means that this is who I am, and this is how I will always be.
I've spent enough time trying to hide my odd nature, my strange mind.
The tale weaving begins now.
No comments:
Post a Comment