I’m always tired. People think I look angry or distant, but it’s just my face. I don’t smile unless I mean it, and I don’t do crowds or chaos. I prefer quiet. I don’t trust the world much, so I keep to myself—polite but distant. I observe, but I don’t attach. I’ve got scars, visible and not. They tell their stories, but I don’t dwell on them. I don’t expect much from life. I’m just getting through it. There is a more crazed, deranged side of me that I rarely show but I always respect boundaries.