Posted: January 22, 2011 in Darks

I don’t enjoy social events because I rather be home staring out the window.

I’m not impressed very often.

I don’t enjoy meeting new people because there’s a lot of energy spent on trying to figure out whether they’re crazy or if they think I’m crazy.

I wear black because I feel fat, not because I am trying to be mysterious.

I don’t care about clothes and only have about six outfits that all look the same.

I do not like being around sick people.

The elderly make me depressed.

I have friends who make up lies to get my attention.

I have trouble saying “no” because my family force-fed me guilt as a child.

If I do say no, there is a good chance I’m over you.

I sing ridiculously loud in my car and listen to one song for an entire month.

I will put my hazards on and stay parked if you honk at me without just cause.

I have eaten from the trash.

I hoard office supplies.

I like to dress up in disguises and go out in public.

I have seen more death than I have been in love.

I hate the news.

I clean my tonsils.

I wear fake glasses to events in case someone sprays when they speak.

People I don’t know tell me their life stories.

I attract the needy.

I get mad when I feel needy.

I feed the alley cats.

I fear becoming like my mother, but hope I’m just as good at being one.

I will laugh if you fall down.

If I can manage, I will help you up.


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