Confession:

Confession: I like fast cars.
Loud motorcycles, adrenaline rushes, shooting guns.
Going over speedbumps too fast.
Water skiing and landing jumps on dirtbikes.

Confession: I play music really loud when I drive alone.
I like to scream/sing and not be able to hear myself.
Driving with my knee so I can put my hands out the window.
Power ballads are the best for this.

Confession: I have an angry streak.
A bold streak.
I like confrontation.
(But only if I really trust you.)

Confession: I like to be alone.
I've come to terms with it.
When the only conversation is the one inside my head.
Selfish, probably.

Confession: I love running more than I love breathing.
Actually, they are kinda the same thing.
Go together well.
Life explodes into glory around mile 7.

Confession: I don't take criticism well.
It gets locked inside my eardrums for weeks.
 Can't shake it loose,
Can't hear around it.

Confession: I am an optimist.
Perhaps that's conceited to say.
But I like my glasses half full
And my jar of hopelessness empty.

Confession: Generosity is not my strong suit.
I am a money hoarder.
Not sure what I'm saving for.
(A motorcycle.)

Confession: I like to win.
I pretend not to.
But if you're running beside me,
The answer is yes, we are racing.

Confession: I feel significantly worse about life once the sun goes down.
Anxiety in my chest.
So God puts me to sleep as early as possible.
I'm a morning person.

Confession, I have an organizational system for everything.
Calendar, closet, kitchen, life.
I have plans for things.
Keeps me fully functioning, don't judge.

This is the year of being honest with myself.

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