I can be scathing.
or, like, you know – totally savage.
Don’t, “bitch please,” me, because I might make you cry.
Although despite the fuck you exterior I’m quite soft.
and I often make myself cry for no other reason then wanting to know what it feels like to cry.
Of course, sometimes, it’s someone else’s fault and I can’t remember what it was like to not feel these tears down my cheeks.
and I really hate it when my nose gets all sniffling.
I’m fun though.
At least I think I am.
I try to be.
Some people don’t think so.
But what can I do about that right?
Even though I really want them to like me,
and it makes me try too hard at times.
If only they could see inside my head.
That hamster running on a wheel with their name on it.
I’m not that bad, am I?
I hope not.
I mean, it’s me so I really hope not.
I don’t know how to be anyone else.
Millennials ruin everything right?
Take a minute, Grandpa, and think of what horror the next generation is going to cause.
I’d almost feel bad if you didn’t give us so much shit to fix in the first place.
This is my inner voice talking.
My inner self.
I often wonder if I was born about two decades too early the way things are shaking out.
I wonder a few other things about that as well sometimes, lol.
Do we have to have just one voice?
One side of us that continues to be our front that everyone sees?
I’d like to think not.
That maybe we can drift between the realms of this and that.
Snaking up the double helix and fucking with its code.
I’m not me all the time.
And if often depends on who you are on who I am.
I’m comfortable with who I am, whichever me that I’m being at that moment.
I listen to myself and hear what I’m saying.
It’s kind of hard for people to do that sometimes I think.
How awful to not be in tune with who you are
I guess that’s why so many have such issues.
I should be thankful I guess.
I’m here, geeking out.
I’m here, being me.
No, not him. The other me.
Probably not that me either!
Nice to meet you again.
Be gentle, I bruise easily.
Even if I get over it eventually.