What I do know is that I'm a baby in an adult's world. I know that I'm the epitome of confusion, and couldn't be more clueless as to what I want. I know that I've caught myself smack in the middle of moral hell. I know that I've lost most, if not all, my sanity in my weekends. I know I've found a life of misery in the notorious form of "fun". I know I've become immune to regret, disappointment, and guilt. I know I'm rather emotionless, and with good reason. I have a closet full of skeletons. Well, metaphorically speaking anyway. I know I'm completely incapable of taking anything seriously, including myself. And, well, I know that people are going to think what they want. So, I guess there's no use in telling you who I really am in the first place.