Is there something wrong and you can't put your finger on it

Is there something wrong and you can't put your finger on it

Again I'm sitting here listening to my James Blunt pandora station, and I'm dissecting my brain, but not literally of course, or I guess rather I'm dissecting my psyche, or basically I'm trying to figure out why I am the way I am, but I guess it takes a lifetime or longer to figure that out.  I'm shy and silent and thoughtful and ridiculous and obsessive-compulsive and self-conscious (and I'm pretty sure everyone hates me because I'm pretty sure people only say certain things because they feel like they have to) and awkward and I can't believe I'm actually taken the time to do this right now when I have a journal on my nightstand titled "my thoughts" which is basically the same as this since no one reads this anyway, except for this is prettier and lets me post pictures and I type much fast than I write.  But the problem, really, is that I can't do either of those things as fast as I can think. 

Last night at about 10 o'clock my sister and I sat on her bed and looked up at her Beatles poster and told John Lennon how amazing he is, and I guess what I'm realizing is that some things are just too big for me to fully understand, and those are the things that I want to fill my life with.  God, I'm pretentious.