Who am I?

 I'm a starter....

 I've always been a starter. No one can deny that.

 I don't just dream about writing a book, I take a pen and a notebook and start writing.... and then forget about it. I don't just dream about plying the guitar, I convince my parents to buy me a guitar and star going to music classes at school. And when the year ends I forget to continue practising... I forget I own that guitar as if I don't see it every time I walk into my room.

 So, yes, I'm a starter.....

 I'm attached....

 I've always been and always will be to anything I own. Even I can't deny that!

 I don't just dream about having a huge, almost unused collection of stuffed animals, I have that collection. Do I ever play with them? No. I'm 21, I'm too old to play with dolls and stuffed toys. Does that stop me from buying more than my room can handle? No, cause every animal I buy is a child to me. We make a connection when we meet and I don't have rest until I've brought it home safely. To it's family. My other stuffed animals. And a play mobile stable. Which I also refuse to throw away... Because they all have feelings, and a heart that would be broken if I abandon them.

 Remember the stories I start? I use a different notebook for each one. And I can't throw any away or use to something else cause one day I may get the inspiration to finish them. I never do, but they are special to me, they're my thoughts and, sometimes, my dreams.

 So, yes, I'm attached to material stuff.... (that I don't really need)

 I'm paranoid...

 I haven't always been paranoid. I've grown into it.

 It started with me being good at stuff. As a child. So everyone thought I was a genius child. That created a little pressure from my parents, even without them realising it. From here I grew my fear of disappointing them. Which lead to me being afraid of failing. Which lead me to being afraid of failing in front of others. From there I got the feeling of being watched every time something that has eyes is facing me. So to feel comfortable enough to dance and dream in my room I have to make sure my stuffed animals are facing the wall or have their eyes covered.

 So, yes, I'm paranoid... (and no, I'm not gonna stop being like this just because it's stupid)

 I'm a human....

 I'm a human and have been it since my creation. (This is debatable, though...)

 I'm a starter, but I rarely finish a project unless the panic monster comes screaming in my head to get to work before you fail school, and, honestly, sometimes even he sleeps in until after the deliver time. So, yeah, I'm a starter, but I'm lazy. And I love it.

 I am attached to material stuff. Yes, I collect stuffed animals that you find useless, but to me they're like family. They're the ones that hug me when I cry and calm me when I'm desperate. I keep the notebooks, but, like I said, they're my thoughts and dreams, they're me. So, yeah, I'm attached to myself and the family that supports me when it counts. (Don't get me wrong, I love my biological family but they don't really understand who is the person inhabiting my body.)

 I'm paranoid, and a the same time I'm not. I have a fear that developed from my childhood. And that's okay, as long as I don't let it stop me from living my life. Of course I'm still terrified when making a presentation, but I still do it. Am I terrified of saying what I really want to my parents? Yes, but I still did it even with the chance of disappointing them, And in my room? They don't mind, so I can rest in peace and be as weird as I feel like being. I am not paranoid, I'm quirky. And that's fine.

 And besides all that, I'm a lot of other things... I'm a dreamer. A lover. Picky over my food. A head in the clouds. A woman and a girl. A soul and a body. An unsymmetrical symmetry. A perfect daughter and an imperfect child. I'm a failure and a success. You know what? I'm human and I'm a paradoxical creature with an old soul in a new body.

 And do you wanna know something else? I don't even know why I'm writing this. It's been three hours and I've stopped in the middle to play a game in my phone. I don't even know what I was supposed to say, but who cares? Not me, that's for sure.

Do you know what's perfect? Puppies, so he're a photo of one:

(Yes, she's a puppy. An adult puppy. No, that's not up for discussion, every dog is a puppy.)