I am a man of many terms, of many words, but few definitions. I have sympathy for no one, but empathy for all. I desire communication, but hate the difficulty I have obtaining it. I can be nice, but feel it's a wasted effort. I enjoy the things I do, but do not enjoy sharing them. I can be perverted, but can not be controlled by instinctual desires alone. I am not a nice person, but would never call myself mean.

I exist in notebooks, and paragraphs. I deny myself things I like, simply because it makes me stronger to go without them. I have no intentions with anyone, or anything, as flying by the seat of my pants is the only way I know.

I can be influenced by beauty, but am not shallow enough to let it control my behavior. I'll chew you up and spit you out no matter how attractive you are, or believe yourself to be.

I tell the truth. My version of it. You might find it offensive, but who says that's a bad thing?

I have no problem making enemies. I'm damaged when it comes to making friends. I might be the craziest person ever, or the only sane person left.

I think too much. I think too little. I tend to over react. I tend to react, not at all. I fight with everyone, for no reason. I fight for a reason, with no one. I hate damn near everything. But enjoy quite alot. I want things to be as they were. But different. I do not trust, But feel I'm worthy of it. I do not understand, but expect understanding. I laugh, I joke, but find very little funny. I have the ability to talk, but can't remember the last time I actually said something. People seem to enjoy my company, while I'm trying to find some way to be alone. I want it to just stop. But find myself keeping it going. I feel the need to reach out, to ask for what I need. But do not think I need it enough, to even try and ask. I wish I was better, but think I'm at the best I've ever been. I'm always looking for something, But won't let myself find it. I'm getting back to even, but find myself still at odds. I've found myself lost, and lost what I thought I found. I don't know what my problem is. I know what my problem isn't.

I'm easy to meet, and hard to know. Easy to touch, but hard to hold.






HATE > LOVE