you don't.

well, you just don't know anything about me.

my eating problems.
how i paint this face on to cake what's writhing underneath.
my blatant promiscuity.
passable drug addiction (which i don't believe, everyone just trying to hammer it into me).
massacre of the unborn, maybe for a second time.
my federal felony, well no one does.
no one in a position of power, anyways.
failure of at least one class.
ambiguous sexual identity.
what's the point, when i haven't met a girl half worth bringing home?
you didn't know about the rape.
and when i told you, you didn't seem to care much.
so what, exactly
is the point in enlightening you about the rest of this mess?

everyone draws their own conclusions anyways.
objectivity is a myth.