so what i learnt over the weekend was:
maybe, maybe if i were to meet someone who is just like me,
i would totally hate her/him.
is it a trait in these kind of people?
to not really need but just wanted to be?
the things that i like to do mostly don’t require people,
and i find it hard to even like people;
but when i do i get pissed off when they don’t like me back
and then i do unimaginable things just to show that i am likable/ remarkable/ special/ fantastical
yeah, i am so cocky like that.
i do what i want and i don’t really explain myself
i keep, store, and guard over my things like they’re all my little treasures that i could not and would not give away, even just a little.
i arrange and put them so that they’re together, but safe.
i like reading but i don’t like sharing my stories with people who doesn’t have anything to share in return
i only cry in public when i need to use it for something (like getting myself out of certain situations)
i don’t lie but i don’t exactly tell the truth either
i just glide my way out of things
and sometimes when i don’t get what i want i sometimes miraculously end up finding reasons to say that it’s someone else’ fault.
i always believe that even if i was wrong i would somehow find what’s right and be right in the end
(so naturally i like to assume that i was right all along. right from the beginning).
i love myself too much to love anybody else
i like to take care of myself and the people around me because i feel good about it.
i saw through his collections
there are a few patterns of similarity
it’s very contradicting when i compare our differences
and found that there are places where we are almost similar
(but not quite).
it’s baffling how irritated i feel.
he doesn’t even talk that much (except for people that he finds tolerable).
he does all the important things,
all those big, laudable, eye-opening feat.
he doesn’t need people around him, (not that much)
and he just does whatever he wants whenever he wants to.
nothing can hold him back
and nothing can make him stay.
he lives in his own world
i love my world
my home and my homies
but when he’s all nonchalant about it
i get so pissed off
because if i think something is something, then it is something of value (because i believe in it that much).
he reads (a lot. some of it i’ve read, some a little bit hard core, but some a little too tame for my taste).
he collects things. (books. magazines. tomes. cDs. dvDs. gadgets).
he likes putting them in good appropriate arrangements as if he treasures them all together in one place (perfect and just right).
he has people who do things for him but wouldn’t ask for anything in return.
he has all the right things (almost) all the time
it’s annoying me beyond belief.
how can he have all that and still be him?
it’s a puzzle i don’t like to solve.