A splinter of my hardened self

 I move between precision and wonder
I want clarity but I need mystery

I think like both a human and a system
logic alongside instinct
I value simplicity
yet my mind naturally builds floors and storeys of meaning

I create daily, almost compulsively
 as if writing is how I exist
I am disciplined, but not rigid
I adapt when something feels off

I distrust artificial perfection
I see strength in flaws and edges
I seek purpose beyond routine
something visible, lasting, and real

I prefer clarity and brevity,
 yet my inner world is expansive
I am grounded in reality,
But I reach toward the symbolic and mythic

I carry responsibility quietly
health, work, relationship, creation
I want recognition
but only if it aligns with truth, not illusion.