June 8, 2011

Here's the thing: I am fucking imperfect. I martyr myself over superficial issues and I am always projecting myself. I don't know who the real me is anymore. Am I a fictitious creation propagated amongst individuals I call 'friends'? I am losing the thread on what makes me anymore. I am changing faster than I can keep up with. I feel like I am in a whirlwind speeding through and suddenly time is going faster and things are happening faster than I can catalog them. I'm processing them slowly when they need to be consumed and digested immediately like fast food, fast, changeable emotions.

I am staid, and slow processing. Strong footed and stubborn like a fucking Ent.