Maybe I Like Being Human

Maybe I like being a little broken, with some parts of me slowly mending, while other parts are waiting for their sunshine. Maybe I like picking up the pieces, finding the right parts to fit into the jagged ones. Maybe I like the fragments that sum me up. Maybe I like being flawed, disfigured, imperfect.

Maybe I like the discomforts. Maybe I like the insanity, the chaos, the uncertainty of existing. Maybe I am perverse. Maybe I am abnormal. Maybe I am anomalous. Maybe I like my own warped reason. Maybe I like being the odd. The strange. The inimitable. Maybe I like being simple. Maybe I like being complicated. Maybe I like going through the phases. Maybe I like the cycle of it.

Maybe I like the gloominess. Maybe I like groping in the dark. Maybe I like the breaking of dawn. Maybe I like braving the raging storm. Maybe I like controlling the broken wheel. Maybe I like the wrench in the gut. Maybe I like smoothing my knotted innards. Maybe I like the slowness of the process.

Maybe I like the struggles. Maybe I like pulling my messy hair. Maybe I like sinking my nails in the mud. Maybe I like crawling with my hands and knees on rocks, on hard floors, on walls. Maybe I like banging my head on the wall, or burying them in the sand. Maybe I like the battle. Maybe I like being scarred.

Maybe I like beating the odds. Maybe I like the power of bearing the inconvenience. Maybe I like the adrenaline high from jumping over the hurdles. Maybe I like the challenge of putting my puzzles together. Maybe I like the breakthroughs.

Maybe I like being stationary. Maybe I like pushing my limits. Maybe I like conventional. Maybe I like surprises. Maybe I like being in control. Maybe I like being stirred. Maybe I like docility. Maybe I like running wild free. Maybe I like being a sinner. Maybe I like living with a virtue.

Maybe I like being alone. Maybe I like walking in the crowd. Maybe I like to get what I see. Maybe I like the madness of second-guessing. Maybe I like monotony. Maybe I like the roller coaster ride. Maybe I like banalities. Maybe I like novelties.

Maybe I like being funny. Maybe I like the sarcasm. Maybe I like being silly. Maybe I like being proper. Maybe I like being emotional. Maybe I like being unfazed.

Maybe I like to tear me apart. Maybe I like the death of who I was. Maybe I like to mold me. Maybe I like to recreate me. Maybe I like the agony of my rebirth. Maybe I like the multiplicity in me. Maybe I like spreading myself. Maybe I like making me whole. Maybe I like boxing myself in. Maybe I like to let loose. Maybe I like being on the ground. Maybe I like to fly. Maybe I like being home. Maybe I like being out in the world.

Maybe I like being consistent. Maybe I like being a paradox. Maybe I like the black holes in my existence. Maybe I like the explosion of my inner universe. Maybe I like my own perfectly imperfect world. Maybe I like being human. Maybe, I like it excessively.