I’m not confident about nothing and everything at the same time.
I know I’m smart, but not in the way that matters.
I read people much better than books but I never have the words to explain my findings.
I’m really no good at all.
I’m only as funny as I feel this moment, without simulating
I think that I’m not pretty.
I think horrible things about people.
I’m really not as nice as I like to be, or as innocent as you think I’m.
I’m not perfectionist, but I would like to be.
I’m a big dreamer with little motivation and too much anxiety.
I’m too much analytical with myself.
I don’t understand how anyone could be proud when they are aware of all the disgusting things that the think and do.
I don’t like crowded places.
I don’t like people.
I would like to be freer.