Currently confused with myself. It's like everything has little meaning yet if I look long enough whatever it is becomes overwhelming. I'll be 32 this June and I am more confused as to who I am now then in my early teens. It's as if I have two parts to my being. On one hand there's the artist, vulgar rude and shallow. Then theres is theweak wounded child whom just wants to fit in anywhere. Am I this depressed wussy? Or do I honestly not care about much people or things. My lack of emotion at times is almost frightening but I do enjoy my fuck you attitude. Anyway there will always be people that I would do anything for. Friends, family and complete strangers whom I find beauty in. I honestly do not hate anyone living or dead. Even if someone does an unforgivable offense they still have thier inner demons that they are dealing with creating thier own personal hell.