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I’m a time stickler, always on time, maximum efficiency in motions, in every detail small or large, and simulateously a procrastinating slob who does whatever, and doesn’t hand his clothes.
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I spend 5-16 hours a day studying, but next to ever finish a book. When I study, it is intensely focused but I switch out between many books.
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I am a coward, and am scared of everything. I am absolutely convinced everything will kill me or get me arrested, but also go do the very shit that can do that, narrating how to get it solved in advanced. Doesn’t always work.
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I can push myself farther and harder than anyone, yet am constantly aware of every decaying, hurting, painful dysfunctional aspect of my body. This pushing myself allowed me to rebuild my body to the point of normal walking again, but the sane impulse causes me to bite off more than I can chew in endeavors. I just learned I can survive and put up with it now when I fuck up and find myself isolated or in over my head. I’m also a quitter, but never in the above circumstances. How do I know which? I just do.
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I’m the oldest of several bothers and sisters.
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I’m hairy all over, most Bigfoot Footage is actually of me camping.
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My father figure is a Grandfather who married a Vietnamese woman, goldmined in Grass Valley, California and owns two homes there, brought her elderly father over, and is himself old as hell. I remember him building walls in a garden at his house outside a bay in California for her, his house had a playboy calendar hanging that I would stare at as a toddler, and he rigged a van into a camper van to travel with her. He also used to make wooden cowboys in a workshop. He taught me to pan for gold, and lied to me to get me off the bottle by promising to go to Disneyland. It never happened, and remain sour to this day about it. I kinda still long for that bottle merely out of principle of being tricked out of it, it was mine, a deal is a tucking deal. My ba ba. I miss it.
I don’t talk to most people, you’ll get a grunt or staring out of me, but if I do talk, I talk a lot. Issue is, I’m terrified of the sound of my own voice, instantly rejecting it. I can’t record videos.
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I talk a lot of politics, statecraft, military- but fucking hated the military when I was in, and distrust the intentions of police instinctive- despite knowing the basics of theory and ethics of ehybwe need them, and how to make them better. I can’t resolve these two aspects, I hate it and seek to reform it, and still will hate it.
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I’m a dog person, and I’m surrounded by cats. If I could choose between having a monkey with a large dog and plain wife, vs a cat and a beautiful wife, I would choose the monkey. A monkey riding a large dog on a little saddle wearing a cowboy hat would make me very happy. That shit won’t ever get old, and I assure you, I be locally famous for my walks.