So, my first little Filbert. domokun
I am terrible at journals. I never know what to say, I always forget about them, and I tend to look back on them and regret ever putting any of my ideas to paper...or screen.
I could never be a writer. My editors would commit a murder-suicide and set fire to my work. My sister could be a writer; she enjoys arguing with me and winning with little competition.
I often think I will explode from thought build up; I am glad I have a short memory and thus, often, lose my ideas very quickly after they are formed. I think this could be a survival mechanism. sweatdrop
I enjoy listening to philosophical discussions but tend to keep my opinions to myself, especially online, since I feel personally insulted when no one responds to my post.
I'm hurt easily but forgive very quickly. I believe this may also be a survival mechanism. I forgive on sight(or sound) and tend to rest my grievances in shallow graves.
I am full of contradictions that I readily accept. I race from one thought to another that often bring me full circle.
I like plants. They're calm. They demand little.
I like warmth and blankets and fires and piles of people. I like contact though I'm uncomfortable with people touching me. sweatdrop
I can't conclude my thoughts gracefully.
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