I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand. Please don't try to figure out who I am, I don't want you to do that. I just need to know that people like you exist.
I'm just a fucked-up guy, who's looking for my own piece of mind.
I am a real bitch. Not a really mean bitch; more of an affable, authentic, whatever comes after post-modern kind of, newly realized, introspective, can't help himself, put my needs first, constantly fumbling over my competing self- aggrandizing ideas, over-inflated, ego-driven kind of, maniacal, rationalizing my behavior kind of bitch, if you know what I'm getting at, but a bitch none the less.
The truth is, this little blurb is not going to get you much insight into me though.
And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.
I'm like a secret about a secret . . . the more you figure out; the less you truly know.