I could share my story, but my story is not true, just a story made up by me, the ego.
I’d tell you of all those moments that came to my mind while I was writing it, coloured by my character etched upon the mind over years of sleeping through time. I would tell you of my highs and lows filtered by memory and anxiety of losing my happiness due to reacting to my false perceptions of your false perceptions.
I could share my story here…
But it’s not true! Just a misty view.