I just have a lot of feelings.

True.
I got the cutest mug on the planet for my birthday.  NaNoWriMo companion?  I think so.
At some point in time, we're going to post the top 25 images from The Sartorialist.  Promise.
The annual birthday post is coming soon.  But now, I just want to talk, because no one can listen right now.  I should go swimming right when I finish this.  I should do a lot of things,  really.  But they don't happen because it just doesn't.  No one is pushing me, and I can't motivate myself.  Stagnant water grows algae.
Here's the thing:  I'm not good at trying to be someone else.  I can't express myself more or less or differently than I do right now, because when I do, I feel like a bitch or a pushover the whole time.  I can't handle that.  And it feels like everyone is either more present or less present than I am.  Why can't we all just be on the same stage, for once?  It's like with food, I can never quite tell how much is right to have, and that's like with talking, I never know.
I'm thinking about this too much.  I know that.  But that's how I am.  That's how I think, and I can't change, and I don't want to change.  So there.  This is me.  Take it or leave it, world.