i had all these great stories to write about today but, as usual, i ended up talking about myself. so predictable.
i whisper when i want to be heard and shout when i don't want to be. and it works.
i drive farther than i need to because it feels good to do what i want.
i like my jeans very tight. maybe i like my body that much, or maybe i just need some kind of restriction.
i play confused even when i know full well what is going on. i always know what is going on.
i don't give chances. not even first ones.
i am stubborn. so stubborn, in fact, that i purposefully forget how stubborn i am.
i ignore rejection and hang onto hope.
i like when people make me laugh.
i don't like when people try to make me laugh.
i have an easy time spending money if it's mine.
i buy things knowing full well that i am going to return them.
i love the smell of soap on airlines.
i talk about others, not because i'm selfless but because talking about myself is not an option.