Typical 19?

I've come to a very scary realization.

I have no idea who I am.

I'm fine with my body---No I'm not.
I'm an artist at heart---I have no real talent.
I'm happy with a simple life---I'll die miserable if I don't become "somebody".
I'm classic---I'm modern---I should have been a 70's child.
I'm afraid to take chances---I need spontaneity.
I'm alright with a comfortable relationship---I crave being chased and passionately loved.
I hate needy people---I need somebody.
I don't believe in true love---It's all that I really want.

I am, quite literally, a living, breathing, (barely) functioning contradiction. And it's becoming rather exhausting.



Still awake ( and sort of grateful nobody reads this),

Alannah