Various potentials dead-ending or bearing little fruit, nevertheless life goes on.

I’ve made statements before reflecting my ‘mythic’ self I presumably developed in college as a way of avoiding the most obvious social stratifications. From that angle there is a dependence on enigma and mystery as an uncanny mirror of the hidden truths of the interior self. I become “born of shadows” or a “lilting monster”, yet in part this is only my own inside joke about delicate intuition, and the obscurity of my place in life as others seem to know it.

Maybe it comes across as strange or even immature, or defaulting on crazy, but it becomes necessary in light of my heightened apprehension of social situations and the need to accept artistic and intellectual gifts in spite of a failure in accruing real merit. Abandoning talents becomes a desolate road leading to the reality of others, as formerly seen through the eyes of an outsider—a world that can seem alien, futile, or self-involved to the point of blindness.

Increasingly then, identity or persona becomes concerned for a mutual vision more akin to a skipping stone than a plunging one.