My ego dictates that I write this right now, and I will not fight it this time. Whenever I take up arms against this curious opponent, I inevitably end up turning the gun on myself. My ego is a tricky thing– it would prefer to exist as unlabeled and free-flowing, though I must give it traits (being the human I am). My ego likes long walks on the beach (though, more accurately, my ego likes having acknowledged taking a long walk on the beach and making fun of me for being so cliché).
WHARVED 