I have a name, but I've never been one to describe myself in one word. Though, in reality, is that not what names are for? So you can make up your own mind? If I had my way, I'd change my name every day; it's a bit more exciting that way. Likewise, I have an age, but I've never been one to slap numbers on things; numbers have a filthy way of lying, just like people, really.

I think too much and talk too little, at least outside of HEX. My computer screen gives me confidence, though still I'm not really a fan of talking about myself. I always manage to sound more morbid and clingy than I really am. The things I say hardly ever fit together, and I'll bounce from one subject to another with no regard to a real thought process, so forgive me for never making sense. I struggle to get along with people who can't hold an intelligent conversation, or at least appear to have a higher IQ than a fourth grader. I'm opinionated to a fault. My temper is sharp, and the more I care about you, the more I'll hurt you.

I'm socially awkward, and physically even more so, so I don't really fit in well in the real world; or at least I don't think so. I'm a lot happier hiding behind my computer screen. My best friends are scattered across the globe, and they mean more to me than I could ever let them know. I will meet them all one day, even if it's when I'm old and gray, and no longer have my own teeth.

I try to help people. The best feeling in the world for me is knowing I've made a difference to someone, no matter how small or temporary. I want to make people happy. I saved myself a long time ago, and found my small bit of happiness, even if it's not always permanent. I solved my problems, though it may not always seem like it. Now I want to solve yours. I want to make you smile. I want to save lives.

I'll try to understand you if you try to understand me.
It'll be our little agreement.
Even though we argue? Say we can't stand each other?
It's all lies.
We can't live without each other, really.
That's the effect I get from you.
Tell me if I'm right?
Love? Never.
You? Always.

She was often restless to the point of irritability.
She simply liked to feel that she was prevented from leaving.
That she was needed.

And the world's got me dizzy again.
You'd think after nineteen years I'd be used to the spin,
But it only feels worse when I stand in one place.
So I'm always pacing around or walking away.

I spent my life learning to feel less.
Every day I felt less.
Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?
You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.
- Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Dare I say I miss him? I do.
I miss him. I still see him in my dreams.
They are nightmares, mostly, but nightmares tinged with love
Such is the strangeness of the human heart.