much as i hate to admit it, i'm becoming a more mellow person. sentimental, soft. spelling out my vulnerability has never been a problem, but only when i had something to gain out of it. be it votes thrown in my favor, a drink, or the gratification i get from simply letting it out. i'll admit here, i am fucking manipulative.
many men and women i've dated do not understand this. they tend to think that i can't possibly be all that different from the rest of the human species. that like everyone else, i have to have a soft spot somewhere. i do. but what they don't seem to get, is that that particular spot is encased in shaken beliefs, broken dreams, and shattered illusions. so much of it, that even as rubble, is inpenetratable.
like i've always been saying, i'm not a simple girl to understand. i am not like everyone else. i have seen things no one else has, and i see things in a different light altogether. many who have heard my stories have dismissed them. many whom have heard me speak shrug it off, like water off a duck's back. they attribute it to my cockiness, my ego, which even ni do not deny i have a lot of.
the reason of this being so, is that i tell it like it is, and knowing people for who they are, i know no one wants to really stop and listen. who does, really, nowadays? somewhere else to be, something else to see, someone new to meet. the excuses never do stop flowing.
the difference between the rest of you and i is that i don't expect anyone else to listen. what i will do at the end of everything is say "i told you so" accompanied with a self-righteous smirk.
read the fine print. no one should ever be too busy for that.
temporal changes, ever changing sources of HOPE
they ebb away and leave me
strings they break, and i am,
i am the cause of this DESTRUCTION.
do you not understand me?
after all, we're just shells.
disposable.
we don't matter, never did.
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