I don’t fit in to one stereotype or category. Forced to travel and adapt constantly growing up, I am slow to judge. My friends range (labeled) from villains and outcasts to heroes and public figures - realizing all are equal and the same. I grew up wanted to fit in and joined many groups - from cults to priesthood quorums. I was molded in spectrums of conditions - bouncing between prosperous and impoverished. I am not a good man nor a bad man - i am both, mixed. I only see in shades of gray now. I don’t speak clearly, so my mouthpiece is writing, which is therefore the window to my soul. Hidden between human and aberration will you find me.
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