Too Much

I have always been a bit too much, sort of splayed open in a way that's almost repulsive, definitely pathetic and sometimes repulsive. Like this blog. But I don't want to tell this in any other way.

I gave the URL to a friend who admitted she stopped reading after a while. I said it was OK. And it is. I have been here before. I recognize this place:

When I was in my early twenties I'd be like this, but I'd tell people instead. I didn't realize how embarrassing people find too much intimate detail to be. I didn't realize that it made me an embarrassing person, either. I still make this mistake at times - I share too much about the wrong things with the wrong person - but these days I don't make it with everyone.

Here, I can be frank about who I am... I am not ashamed of it exactly. I am aware of my flaws. I know that they're are not easy to look at, that they make you squirm. That's alright. Don't worry about it, you're ugly too. In a way I am pretentious about this: I am trying to write about myself and who i am in a manner that's undefended. I know I cannot be unstudied, or unself-conscious, it would be silly to pretend, but I am not interested in putting my whining, pining, obsessing, cheating, rationalizing into a better light either. And I really think i could if I wanted to.

I am not asking you to take me as I am. You don't have to. You can simply leave.

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