i am the fucking best at being the absolute worst. i am the michael jordan of avoiding conversations. i am the ludwig van beethoven of not cleaning up after myself. i am the don draper of getting a stomach ache. i am the mahatma gandhi of forgetting people’s names. i am the steve jobs of clogging toilets. i am the muhammad ali of misspelling words and incorrect punctuation. i am the abraham lincoln of getting migraines. i am the william shakespeare of falling down the stairs. i am the mother teresa of procrastination. i am the beatles of cumming too quick. i am the jesus christ of angsty bullshit. i am the coffee grinds at the bottom of your cup…the paper cut in between your fingers, the piss on the seat, the chapped lips, the humidity, the empty gas tank, the empty wallet, the boy that never called, the girl that wished you did, the complaint, the job, the boss, the traffic, the commercials, the time you did that thing you regret with your entire being. i am alive at times and dead at others. i am loved, and so i love. i’ve been hurt, and so i hurt. i am you, and you are me… and we are perfectly imperfect... as we should be.