I'm an aesthetically overly sensitive medicated university educated depressed pansexual creative border-line alcoholic mildly autistic introvert trying to escape a working class Irish catholic upbringing whilst maintaining the farce that I'm a normal run-of-the-mill employed professional that isn't being slowly murdered by a thousand boring conversations. They kept telling me to talk to god and I kept wondering when he was supposed to answer back. It didn't take me long to figure out they were all mad. So I got out, but, it turns out everyone else was mad as well.
