Oh, I'm So Inadequate. And I Love

All This Nothing Has Meant More To Me Than So Many Somethings

I Don't Feel Particularly Typecast Because I Think I Do So Many Different Kinds Of Things. Whether Or Not They're Seen Is Another Issue.

I Have A Very Good Life, So I Have Nothing To Complain About. Sometimes, I Just Have Existential Angst.

I Think There's An Ongoing Effort Involved In Trying To Get A Bigger Perspective, Trying To Let Go Of Things That Limit Your Capacity To Love And Be Loved Or Your Capacity To Hear And To Really Speak.

Oh, I'm So Inadequate. And I Love Myself!.