I find that I come to (in my mind) my best realizations late at night when I should be sleeping.
Honestly, I have bullshitted (I don't know if that word can be put into past tense) my way through life. Not just halfway. Entirely. I remember nothing of importance. I read books and forget them. I learn new words and forget them. I memorize facts long enough for a test and forget them. I'm not smart, I just pretend to be. Most of my friends don't actually "know" me, and I have a feeling a great deal of them would place me in somewhat of a party-girl, semi-slut bracket in which I absolutely do not fit. And you know why? Because I am full of shit. My words rarely reflect my personality, and most people don't know to take me with a giant grain of salt. Now, I just have to decide whether I'm appalled or delighted by this quality.
I have a few other inchoate thoughts on friendship, the questionability of being in a serious relationship my senior year of college, and people with weak and half-formed personalities, but I'll save those for another night. Inchoate: new word I learned in my 900 Words to Know for the GRE book. Look it up. Along with apposite and pulchritude.