I am a culmination of opposites. In constant conflict: black and white, up and down. If you say backward, I go forward. If you say left, I go right. If I have to guess which direction I should go, I choose the opposite of my instinct, which often ends up being the right way.

I don’t feel age or measure time. I understand now. I understand then. Later or some time is indefinite and infinite and I don’t know what it means. It doesn’t take sides and it’s gray and I don’t like gray. Gray feels like jumping off a cliff for the first time. There’s no safety net and nothing to slow-motion your fall. I’m scared of gray, so I try to be around it as much as possible.

What I mean is that I make no sense. One, two, three sounds like two and three and then just three and one, one, one, and I forget where I was or where I meant to go and I go back to the beginning. So I don’t question why I do things the way that I do. I don’t think there is answer. It’s what I feel and the only way I know.