In the jumble of thoughts and emotions that make up my existence, I find myself entangled in a web of contradictions. It's not poetic; it's real, raw, and sometimes messy. Here's the truth about living as a paradox:

I'm drawn to happiness, sure, but I can't shake off the weight of sad thoughts that often cloud my mind. It's like there's a constant tug-of-war between the two, and I'm stuck in the middle.

I'm not always my biggest fan. I see my flaws and shortcomings more clearly than anyone else. But amidst all that self-doubt, there's a begrudging respect for the person I've become, scars and all.

When I say "I don't care," it's not because I'm indifferent. Deep down, I care too much. It's just easier to put up walls than to deal with the vulnerability that comes with caring.

Attention is a tricky thing. I crave it, no doubt, but when it comes my way, I often find myself pushing it away. It's like I'm afraid of what it might reveal about me, or maybe I'm just not used to being seen.

I've been both a healer and a wounded soul in relationships. I've tried to fix others, thinking it would fix me too, only to end up with my own heart broken in the process.

Listening comes naturally to me, but sharing doesn't. I'm great at keeping other people's secrets, but when it comes to my own thoughts and feelings, I'd rather keep them locked away.

So yeah, I'm a walking contradiction. It's messy, it's confusing, but it's real. And maybe that's okay. Maybe embracing the messiness of life's contradictions is the most honest thing we can do.