will it ever be known? when will i know who i am. i think the answer is never. or there is no answer.
sometimes i am so in the groove. going. strong and knowing self aware and accepting and sure of who what where and the way is open. feel with joy all that is l i f e. i feel the angels and the faeries and even satan as they flit around me. revel in the questions and let go of the answers. know and feel and experience that nothing matters. muse on the humanity and inhumanity of humans and retreat to my self when the going gets too tough. i won't be solving the world's problems any time soon.
feel frustration and as my ego drags me around insisting on being recognized for the brilliant peacock that she is. perform on stage and in bed and in the matrix and watch myself be a star. at least that's what they tell me.
what words in our fallible language describe who i am.