Do not lean on door. Do not fall in love.

My anxiety's pretty unfun right now. I've posted something like three times in 48 hours and I still feel as though I need to rant or rave or...scream? I don't scream, though. I am a composed person who laughs loudly when jokes are funny and politely when they are not. I usually call back within the hour but if I don't, I try within the day. I hug almost everyone, my voice consistently gets high when I speak to people I'm only aquaintances with (unless I am trying very hard), and I volunteer to help on a regular basis.

I can't cook well. My insides feel cooked. That sentence makes me feel ill to read.

I have debated (or, rather, just come up with this a minute ago) creating some definite guidelines to my personality so I can better define it without forgetting or re-creating or whatever.

I keep forgetting how little I care about most things. It's almost as if I believe insignificant bullshit is important. Alas, I'm trying to be average because that has worked in the past and without the comforting solace of constantly having people laugh at my horribly offensive jokes back at home...I'm sort of lost. My sense of humor, my genuine all-out sense of humor, is completely out of focus for most people here. It's unfun. I don't remember what I'm talking about. Or, rather, I don't remember why.

"Here is what you look like," says my camera. With some serious makeup and then a naked face. I look old and sickly either way.

So wait, who am I again?