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i like tetris. and organizing things. i like cleanliness. order.
everything fitting in a perfect place.
you could eat off of ANY surface in my room, i promise.
im not a control freak really. not...THAT much anyway. but when i do have the opportunity to maintain a certain level of order and well, sanity, i do what i can.
when so much else of my life is always painted in chaos and mess, i guess my slightly OCD complex isnt surprising.
and my hands.
well, i do a lot with my hands. i draw, i play the piano, i write. so much of my daily existence depends on the use of my hands. but theyre imperfect, flawed.
i have so many scars on my hands. little ones, most of them look only slightly bigger than papercuts. but i have them on my knuckles and the tops of my hands. i bite my fingernails too, so that doesnt really help. my hands, theyre great. they do great things when i want them to. but theyre torn up.
but the almost sick part is that whenever i get a new cut on my hand, i cant help but feel like im adding to a sort of collection.
my hands are who i am. a little torn up but i can do great things. but how many people can look past the exterior, the scars?
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