I am literal.
Alive.
Too sensitive and too literal.
Alive.
Too emotional and too direct.
Alive.
Not sure what the problem is but I swear I feel paranoid.
Knowing who I am and accepting my brilliant design is worthy work.
Trusting my heart to tell the truth over my head is worthy love.
Being great despite my mental adversaries is worthy purpose.
Yet, I am still here worrying about foolish people, foolish labels, foolish concerns.
Foolishness.
I'm hot.
I burn it seems.
I blaze in my existence and the light and the fire and the heat and the words and the energy and the purpose and the build up is divine. Not mine.
I guess, yes. As a human... I am an insecure, excluded, deeply loved and deeply confused, extremist.
I guess, yes. As an autonomous spirit... I am brilliant, beautiful, unique, fire signed full of words.
Yeah...a drama queen!
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