Acceptance and exile – see, I have this nagging doubt the former is not meant to be my due and the latter is a primary state of being – even despite the phases of the moon being potential allies – I suspect my cross-cultural ancestry places me as an outsider, feels that way at times – an observer, seen as a stereotype –

To be an exile within one’s own life is an odd place to find yourself –

Others say you are getting too used to the comfort of failure. I ask, is there one? Theorists say there is, but that’s because they do not have the same legacy or this vicious stooge walking beside them, the shadow-man on their back always in the process of letting you know how shite he thinks you are – I’ve never been able to identify him but he governs many breaths -