I know I am smart, but not in the ways that count.
I read people much better than books but I never
have the words to explain my findings.
I'm only as funny as I feel,
and I do not think I'm pretty.
I sometimes walk with my head down.
My posture is terrible.
I think horrible things about people and I letmy emotions get the best of me.
I'm really not as nice as I'd like to be,
or as innocent as you'd think I am.
I am a perfectionist.
I am a contradiction to everything I want to stand for.
I'm a big dreamer with little motivation.
I am really no good at all, on my own.But I am analytical with myself.
And I don't understand how anyone could ever be cocky
or proud when they are aware of all the disgusting things
that they think and do,
but no one knows.

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