My own survival required me to counterbalance interesting with invisible.
I cannot perch among those who think that I am broken.
The world inside myself is vaster and richer than this paltry plane, peopled with mere galaxies and gods.
Sometimes the truth has difficulty breaching the city walls of our beliefs. A lie, dressed in the correct livery, passes through more easily.
The truth may not be told. Here is an acceptable lie.
We were all monsters and bastards, and we were all beautiful.