Damnit

Some days I really hate to be me. By almost any standard in the world, I'm pretty well off. I've got a lot to be thankful for. But I've also got a self-esteem problem. I've never quite been able to shake off criticism as easily as I try to pretend to. This is really hard to write, because I can bearly acknowledge that I'm not an ugly, disgusting asshole. Sad, huh? In a fit of paranoia worthy of a schizophrenic coming down from Ritalin, I sometimes believe that my friends only listen to me and hang out with me because they see that I need it. I know that this is false (or at least hope so), but that doesn't make it any easier. Perhaps that's one of the reasons (not to mention the chemical cocktail of hormones in my blood right now) that I so desperately need a girlfriend. Carmi was the first person who I could definitively prove wasn't taking pity on me. There's my half-baked self-analysis. Unforetunately, knowing my faults doesn't make them go away magically. In cruel irony, I fault myself for not being able to get rid of my faults. ~FIN~ Well, that was hard to write. I'm not gonna check it for errors or structure because then I'll never post it, and I need somebody to read this... Shit, I hate being me.