Am I too much?
I say too much.
I swear too much.
I work too much.
I drink too much.
I talk about sex and politics and genitalia too much.
I am too loud.
I am too introverted.
I am too dull.
I am too “Jack Dee”.
I am too disrespectful.
I am too silly.
I am too head in the clouds.
I am too much.
I am too unfit.
My hair is too big.
I take up too much space.
I wear jeans too much.
I am too casual.
I am too unprofessional.
I think too much.
I worry too much.
I am on my phone too much.
I complain too much.
I hurt too much.
I laugh too much.
I watch too much tv.
I spend too much.
I have too much debt.
I own too much.
I want too much.
I give too much away for free.
I charge too much.
My goals and dreams are too much.
I am too still.
Too sensitive.
Too fragile.
Too silent.
Too woo woo.
Too serious.
Too weird.
Too old.
Too lazy.
Too sedentary.
And I eat way too much cake, chocolate, crisps…
I am too much.
Am I enough?
Hell yes, I AM TOO MUCH.
I celebrate my too much.
I honour my too much expression and way of being too much.
I am me. All of me. Utterly and completely too much.
Utterly and completely enough.
Fuck yeah,

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