I talk SO FREAKING MUCH, but now having to fill this rectangle about myself I don't know what to say and my mind is all just elevator music. What ABOUT me? Even though I know the people around me like a writer would know her own characters, I have yet to realize who I am. I have a great memory - for things, though, events - not details. I'm not sure about anything but a select few things, and even then that confidence exists as a point of light in a single frame in time; powerful, present, and bright, but subject to change. I think I know who my friends are, whom I love, whom I hate, and, most of all, those to whom I am apathetic. And that might be the best for everyone, because I can just t
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