I actually do say things I mean. That's pretty bad.
I am so intolerant of... everything.
I can be ugly and vain and harsh.
Unabashedly so.
Until I hate myself.
Not that I really wanted to bite my tongue. Speaking your mind is a means to an end.
But that I hurt people. Every time.
I just give it all, I guess.
I always do. All my good, all my bad.
If you're close, that's what you get.
You get it all.
The luckiest friends of mine are those that are far away.
They get the phone calls filled with rationality and wisdom, charm and wit overflowing.
The great vat of understanding and beautiful things to share.
I feel sorry for the ones I need the most, because they get it all.
There's just too much of me.
Don't feel bad, though.
I can't handle it, either.
Myself, that is.
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