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Granted…

Now, hear me out. Please. I am hardly right about everything. Often my deductions lead me down rabbit holes I would never have chosen to go of my own free will. Sadly, that is the nature of the beast. I would use my profession as a way to ease the blow of my often times would-be embarrassing moments of less than brilliantness, however that would be cheap and a disgrace to the very people I am learning my craft from.

Truth be told, I’ve always been a bit rough around the edges. I pick up on the little things that ordinary people don’t, and see no point in hiding the things I pick up on. I have no super power, I just pay attention. Normal people are more concerned with ‘what he will think of my blouse’ or ‘how her ass looks in those jeans’. By the time they’ve had that one thought, I’ve already realized that the girl sitting two seats down from me most likely has an eating disorder judging by her sparse eating, thin hair and fingernails. I’ve also deduced she is left handed.

Granted I don’t say the things I do to upset people. And most of the time, I don’t understand why they are upset that I say them. My offhanded comments are the truth! When did being honest about what one sees become a social death sentence? Oh well. I’m sure if I cared enough, I might do something to change the way I am. Maybe you can’t change who you are? But, more realistically, I just like who I am. And how I act.

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