ME: 19 and live in Melbourne, Australia.I'm just another one of the millions of people who has conformed with society and jumped on the bandwagon sometime last year when someone persuaded me to get a MySpace because they had one and I decided to join the craze and now I find myself here.Exercise, increasing my heart (rate). Something about it makes me want more. It's not greed, it's satisfaction, accomplishment. Yeah, accomplishment. There's nothing better than the feeling of being worn down with your legs feeling like lead with sweat running down your forehead mid morning because you know it's worth it in the long run. Haha, no pun intended.I've resided in the same area my whole life, not because I have had to, but by choice and the fact that my parents don't want to move. Everything I want is here. Everything I need is here.I’m deep, so deep that once you get to know the real me you will probably drown in amazement. I can hear the echoes of all your thoughts ring out as me being 'fake.' I'm far from it, I just don't show my true colours around a lot of people because I'll get black & white stares in return. I'm smarter than a lot of people think, and know, for that matter. Only a selected few know how smart I really am, and even then I can probably count them on one hand. I might need the second if I'm not thinking properly as I'm writing this. Arrogant? No. Fact? Yes. Call it what you like, it's not going to change what I think. Quite frankly, I don’t care.I can be difficult when I'm pissed off and if you're going to have a go at me I'm not likely to react either, I'll stay calm, which seems to frustrate people even more. Pushing my buttons doesn't work unless I'm brain-dead because usually at that point I'm on edge and all I need is one little push before I fall off the edge and lose it completely. If you’re lucky enough you’ll be able to push any button I was programmed through. Rationality is the key that will open the door to a problem that needs solving. Screaming and shouting will not get you anywhere, neither will hitting anyone, you'll only have a sore hand in the aftermath, although at times I'm sure it would have been worth it.I write to escape and free my mind of all my thoughts that are locked in a cage until they're down on paper. For some reason I write best in the early hours of the morning when I'm about to retire for the night (or should I be saying morning?) when I'm lying down staring at my roof in complete darkness with the only light sources coming from my modem and the standby light on my television. Writing to me is.... freedom.I was once described as "forever the optimist" and will always try to find the positive side in the most negative of situations. It's just me and how I perceive things. Yeah - past tense, got you thinking? Good.I'll read you like a book if you give enough away. It's not that hard either, you'll do it without realising and before you know it I'll know more about you than you expected me to.Sport is another form of my oxygen. Soccer, tennis, footy, cricket, basketball. I'm almost guaranteed to be out there playing if the invite is there. I spend my Wednesday nights getting a ball belted at me for 30 minutes with a bunch of mates who try to score as much as possible, but I'm not all about defense if that's what you're thinking, I'll concede when I'm wrong.Music takes me down a road that leads to place far, far away where no-one will find me because quite frankly, I forget the world and everything that is in it. A place that I can’t remember, a place that I can’t forgetInsignificant and abnormalities catch my eye (or does my eye catch them?). I’m not sure why, so don’t ask me. Number plates, what hand people write with, the colour of someones shirt. Weird? No not really, I have a keen eye for detail, I guess that’s what is.Contrary to popular belief, not all males think with their dick.And with my headline posing the risk of me sounding like a sleaze, only one judgmental enough would come to that assumption.The end. Angry Young Man/My Life: Honesty: Just the Way You Are: Innocent Man: We Didn't Start The Fire: Big Shot/It's Still Rock & Roll To Me/ You May Be Right: Scenes From An Italian Restaurant: Piano Man:
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