24.8.11

Anticlimax

When I realised I was looking at my own handwriting. They went up and down and up and down again. Graphologists in the books I've read say each style has meanings. My pinky nail-sized memory brought me to a conclusion: I'm a different me in different times.

So here goes another night I spend thinking of things I shouldn't think of. I never mean to make this post sounds lame but that handwriting thing really made me think of what kind of person I've been, and how I believe time takes a big role in the way I act and react. The first thing that pops up to my mind is 'well at least I'm not a boring person then', while another comes as 'that's scary as hell, I can't have any personality disorders!' (no offense, but I think the MPD is scary if it happens to myself). But before I wander a little further in my own thoughts, I realise that whatever it is I'm thinking of right now, I'll forget it tomorrow anyway.

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