My self narratives.

A year of beliefs, taken from a year of conversations. All the following came after my words, “I am…

Boring as hell.

Extra.

Terribly socially awkward.

Nerd.

Complicated and not easy.

Doomsponge.

Silly keener.

Not a leader and nor do I find comfort in it.

Entirely too curious.

Doom.

Obtuse.

A cheap bastard.

Being extra AF.

Predictable.

Afflicted with the curse of competency.

Vexed.

Movie dumb.

Pansy Canadian.

The worst.

Being very normal.

Truly terrible.

Not to be trusted with life.

Not very good.

Awkward.

So socially inept.

Dumb.

Oddly excited.

Too doom and gloomy.

Kinda doom reincarnated.

Paranoid AF.

Slightly panicked.

Human.

Fucking vexed.

Intrigued.

Super freaking anxious.

Most proud.

Running solely on caffeine and stubbornness.

Thankful.

Born from the loins of crazy.

Absolutely rattled.

Not prepared.

MOST SUSS.

Not innocent.

Not perfect.

Not without fault.

Two seconds from screaming.

Too predictable.

Crestfallen.

Utterly disenfranchised.

Wrong tho?

Over simplifying the fuck out of everything.

Crazy.

Offended.

A heathen.

Torn.

That way.

A giant confused noob.

Ready to commit violence.

Because I’m scared.

Incapable of making important decisions.

Slightly doubting myself.

Jealous.

Super vocal.

Freaked.

Legitimately terrified.

Gobsmacked.

So enlightened.

Shocked.

Not drunk enough for this.

Stressed.

Exhausted.

An exception to the rule.

So out of shape.

Going to conduct an experiment.

Asking for too much.

Not up to date.

A smarmy asshole.

Wont to do.

Entirely too honest.

Not worth it.

Not worthy.

NOT ALLOWED TO FORGET.

Like, high on life right now.

SO relieved.

Sadly not surprised.

Accepting and embracing this reality.

Without.

Insane.

So excited.

Guilty of.

Really bad.

Here for it.

Wounded.

SO OLD.

For this plan.

Not sure why.

Not allowed.

Much more than what I look like.

Slightly biased.

Stumped.

A silly hopeful optimist.

Curious.

Sleepy AF.

Very people-y, yes.

So fucking happy.

The least fanciest person of all time.

Not going to Google if that is a thing.

So boring.

Crazy owl lady.

Way overthinking this.

Not at all that calculated.

12 years old.

Going to weep with joy.

So god damn tired.

Tired.

Inefficient.

Crispy.

Lame AF.

Reading too much into this.

A terrible person.

Allergic to shopping.

Dumb and hopeful.

Going to be inexplicably joyous.

Dumb when sleepy.

Dreading this with my everything.

Still confused a bit but I always am.

I don’t know how (I am).

Low key embarrassed.

Wading in “I have no idea what I’m doing” waters.

Awe in the stupidity of humanity.

Most blessed.

Lacking cohesion.

Confirmed old.

So mad at myself.

Anxious and nervous.

Always 10 steps behind.

Busy, but often I am equally slacking.

Over it.

There with you.

NOT.

Me.


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