I eat too much ramen.

I eat too much in general.

I like to burn my skin a bit when it itches.

I have poor self control.

I drive too fast cause I like to feel the world pass me by.

I get anxiety when I’m coloring with color pencils because I feel it’s too slow and inefficient; markers are much better.

I like the idea of reading but am too lazy to actually read.

I pretend to know things I don’t. Yet I hate it when people pretend.

I hate anything that’s inauthentic, especially when it comes to forms of art or people.

I hate snobs, but I probably am one sometimes.

I waste so much time. There’s so much I feel that could’ve been accomplished had I not wasted so much time. I could’ve read so many books, maybe even have written some bad poetry or learned to code.

I’m very vulgar; that surprises people. Everyone’s vulgar and I hate those that pretend it’s not true.

I like Tarantino movies cause they’re vulgar; it makes them feel real even though they’re so bizzare.

I like people who tell the truth even when the truth stings.

I like it when people call me weird. It makes me feel different then everyone else.

I sway to music in my head that nobody else hears. It’s usually a classic rock song.

I love classic rock. Nothing’s more real yet more of a trance at the same time.

I love singers who write their own songs, it makes their music more meaningful and honest.

I watch movies that portray people as they are, not as we want them to be.

I love delving into the depth and darkness of humanity and what we’re capable of, both good and bad.

I don’t believe we’re all bad, just easily influenced by it.

I do believe we’re greedy and selfish, and so am I, and I hate it.

I love being the center of attention and when other people get to know me.

I love shocking people who assume things about me before meeting me.

I exaggerate my importance to other people to feed my ego. I’m ok with it cause it helps me cope; I’m not ok with it cause it’s not the truth.

I call myself a non-conformist when I’m really just the same as everyone else.

I want to help others, but I don’t have the power to make significant change. I’m afraid that when I do, I wouldn’t want to help others anymore.

I’m afraid of growing old. People get so selfish when they grow old.

Yet sometimes I feel old when I’m tired.

I’m probably not living enough; maybe it’s cause I’m lethargic, maybe it’s cause I’m a coward. I’m definitely a coward.

I want to do so much yet I never do anything.

I don’t know where I’m going so I’m scared to go anywhere.

I’m scared of trying and then failing.

I hate loneliness but I love being alone.

I wanna see the world yet I never really enjoyed traveling.

I’m just a hypocrite, a coward, and a pretender.

Yet also a dreamer, lover, and adventurer

And that’s as real as it gets.