I can't sleep again. I'm always more aware of my own flaws when I'm tired and especially so when someone is actively laying them down in front of me, listing them like a fucking disemotional psychologist. It fucks me off. I am not a list of flaws. I am me. You know what my real problem is? I'm me. That's my problem. If I wasn't me, I wouldn't have
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I've always said the intelligent ones are the ones most unhappy with themselves. Why? Because we tend to think way too fucking much. Thinking is the mindkiller, more than fear.
I can't help you...but I can sure as hell relate. All too well...
*snugs with ya*
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