fuck you. ok. visual clues inform you when you've got it right when your pants aren't tight when you're bending over backwards and bumping into yourself precision and accuracy aren't the same thing but they feel the same I'm letting everything eat away at myself and I can't put in enough effort to start grasping towards anything. I feel like I'm mourning a part of myself that wasn't even real to begin with and it bothers me that nobody can see it. I don't have a personality anymore and I lack charisma. I'm as exciting as sunday school and I've got nothing to show for myself except for a 13,000 dollar checking account and fabulous clothes. I know how to fool all of you that is my biggest secret. cat's out of the bag let's see who sticks around. mother. I like you alot.