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There are these days when you just don't think so much of yourself. When the curtain is ripped aside and what you see is a vapid lump of dough who never finishes things and is of no use to anybody.
Who's to say whether that's the true person, or the other people you see on other days?
I don't want to talk about it, it turns out. But I seem to need to document this anyway.
Who's to say whether that's the true person, or the other people you see on other days?
I don't want to talk about it, it turns out. But I seem to need to document this anyway.