Self-knowledge fun-facts

11Mar10

Things to know about myself.

I never know what to say to people when the say “Thank you”. Sometimes I try to say something that comes off as too casual or some other times it happens to be the complete opposite. Specially when those “thank you” come from someone in my family, I find that I shouldn’t be thanked for things I do and never say anything back. I have to do them anyway, right? That usually makes me unbelievably uncomfortable. I can handle being thanked, but I can’t handle having to respond to that.

I like freckles (I’m a freckle-gazer), particularly the kind that are evident and become some sort of trade-mark for someone. One of my fetish happens to be to count and kiss them, wherever they are.

I find that distance can bring two people closer that being in the same room can. Usually, ethereal togetherness happens to be more atractive to me that the real one, that actual, physical contact.

That does not mean I don’t like physical contact, though. I have an abnormal craving for hugs all the time. I restrain myself, but I’m always looking for a hug.

My tounge is very strange. It has weird scars (not exactly scars, but something similar) and has a very pale, sickening colour. I can’t eat pineapple hearts because it makes it sore, which is a damn shame because I really like pineapple hearts.

I had my first sexual fantasy when I was about 10 (perhaps before). I assume it is precocious, especially being a girl. It was about a man being tied up by two women with long black hair on a high pony-tail and big breasts. I was an spectator, never a part of the mix.

When I was little I had a horrible nightmare of a scorpion coming out of the sink while I washed my hands, stinging me and filling me with deadly poison. When I’m drunk, strangely, I remember that a lot. Perhaps that’s why I don’t drink very often.

I walk fast, very fast, even though I’m never late.

I get hungry after I cry a lot.

I’m truly scared of wasps.

…I’m usually crestfallen, but I like it all that way. I’m comfortable in my sadness.

Filed under: delirium tremens   |  1 Comment