Maybe I missed my calling.

I tend. To not worry. About what other people think. About me. They can think ill and bad. And I’m not bothered. Because I was meant to be misunderstood. I know me. I’m not bad. And that’s good enough for me. I sleep well at night. Because I have confidence. In me.  Really. Though I claim to be superior. I’m not. I only brag. With humorous intent. I like to play a role. Maybe I missed my calling. I should have become an actor. Capable of immersing myself. Into playing absurd roles. So that I can get the feel of random crass personalities. Such as politicians. --Jim Broede