(...My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that.)
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Home, by Michael Bublé
First of all, a bit of a weird apology: Not for the first time have I written and posted an two entries last week that I decided to delete make private a couple of hours after. I don't know why on Earth I'm so bothered by what other people think about what I say
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I know it sounds silly to even be worried about this but I know that some people are reading my journal via RSS or have subscribed to it and then it just sucks when you get an e-mail that someone has posted something new and you click on it and it says that you don't have sufficient rights to read the entry. (Stupidly enough that's what LJ tells you then unless it was completely trashed which I don't like doing because I still believe that my thoughts/feelings were valid, if not meant for the "public" :/)
Yet... I tend to be a chatterbox and have few boundaries when I feel comfortable and I feel like sometimes I feel "too" comfortable here and say things that are not... I dunno... appropriate or considerate or lots of other things.
I don't know where the other stuff comes from... maybe grad school is not doing wonders for my ego? Shouldn't it be the other way around? ;)
You're right about the wallflower and standoffish part, though... I need to remind myself of that more often, I guess. :)
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