The things that drive me crazy about her are the things that drive me crazy about myself. She needs to be admired constantly, she needs praise and can’t stand criticism, she wants to be seen as gifted and unique. I realise after ripping her book from somewhere so deep from google the bots must have commended my IP address for the commitment I showed to finding it, that she is a whirling, hysterical princess in the same way I am. I expect people to do things for me in the same way she does, she cannot leave her parents the same way I can’t, she can’t have the man I want to be with the same as
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