Sometimes I hate who I became, what the broken bricks of my ruins, reformed, may turn out to be.
New sharp corners, but also a renewed zest for life (yes, even at my lowest). That comes at a price sometimes. Remember my saying on the practical compromise?
My strengths are my weaknesses, in moderation.
I am my very best and worst argument when pleading my case.
I (like anyone) hate to be called a liar. As always: "Evidence, please?"
I hate so many things this days. And you know my own meaning of the word.
I'm Jack's daily rebirth.
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