You’d be surprised how many times I had to revise this post. It seems pretty inconsequential. I can hardly type something out without reconsidering. My mind works in the form of two personalities engaged in an endless dialogue (hardly radical), with accusations and recriminations to the point of exhaustion. I imagine it started out as a system of checks and balances that devolved into a circle jerk. The theatricality of how I act when alone is sometimes sickening and almost always fucking embarrassing. I regularly pace around the room to make sure my audience knows I’m thinking. It doesn’t work. I’m a collection of inferiority complexes. Everyone of minor worth I meet makes me feel inadequate. I hardly understand myself, but I’m a subject I enjoy. I can go on for quite a while about myself. It might be the only thing I’m qualified to talk about. Try to withhold judgment.
