I'm afraid. I'm always afraid. I'm not afraid of being honest myself, but I do become saddened if my feelings are hurt. It seems that they are on a hyper-sensitive setting for quite some time now. I'm a review-whore. I really am. I love having my diary judged by many. I try to change the mistakes and move on, but the template won't ever change. I made it myself, and I love it dearly, and I feel that it represents who I am. I try to be honest about who I am, and make my entries reflect my soul [or lack thereof] but this goal seems more and more impossible. My thoughts and my expression are just not connected at all anymore. I give the wrong impression. Or is that just what I think? Maybe I give the right impression. Maybe the impression I get from reading my diary isn't what others get. Maybe others get the right one, and I get the wrong one. maybe I get the right one, and they get the wrong one. Maybe I talk too much...