I get annoyed.

I get irritated.

I get fucking hostile. And it’s so damn obvious. People, however, still continue to prod me in all the wrong places. I guess I will give humankind a little credit though, because it’s not often. Or at least you’ll almost never catch me in an unhappy state. Why? I need a certain level of comfort to show you this bad side of me. This one terrible quality out of the many that I have. These bad qualities I have to live with and probably can never change.

I hate being told I cannot fix something.
I want to fix everything.

I hate being told I cannot do something.
I can do anything.

I hate being told I don’t understand.
I can understand - I just don’t get that chance to.

I hate it when people wait for me to fail. I hate people that complain about their lives and don’t do anything to change their circumstances. I hate limitations. I hate being looked down on and compared to. I hate being a disappointment. I hate not meeting expectations - no matter how high they may be. I hate fate - only you can decide what you want to do with your life. I hate people that think they know everything. Those people? Life hasn’t hit them hard enough yet. I hate quitters. I hate failures.

I say what I want. When I want. Even if it hurts people. I do what I want - even if it hurts people. I get bothered by stupid things. I change my mind constantly. I have very high standards and difficult specifications. I am picky. I get bored easily. I say mean things. I don’t listen to you half the time. I am very lazy in relationships. I tire of people easily. I do rude things.

I am extremely competitive. Why not? Who doesn’t want to be the best? If you’re going to enter a race, you might as well do your best because in the end only that highest spot on that glorious podium matters. Only that endless resume of achievements and rewards gets you anywhere. Only the ones at the top of the food chain win.

I want to be at the top.
I’m going to be at the top.
I will do anything to be at the top.

God, I am messed up. I won’t blame anyone for it. Because everyone has their own shit to deal with - it’s called life. So I act dumb and I act clueless. But if you know me, you know that’s bullshit too. Then again, how could you? I am so secretive and so closed, I hide everything. I don’t talk about my problems and I will never tell you what I think about your morals. I’d rather not - you might disappoint me. I am not life - dumb. Hell no. I don’t listen to that little voice in the back of my head, the one called common sense. But it doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s there. Frankly, I probably don’t care. I don’t prepare for all the consequences that come from my impulsive actions, but how could you? How could you think you know everything well enough to predict what your consequences are going to be. How could you think you know someone better than they do? Because you don’t. Because in the end, they hold all the cards for themselves. If they believe your bull shit, that’s their refusal to understand and find themselves; their pitiful weakness. I’m going to take life as I go. Make my own choices, fuck up, and deal with the aftermath.

So then what?

I am not so gentle and silly now, am I? I must be a disappointment. I must have shattered your image of me. But, I won’t apologize for tricking you. It was your responsibility to dig beneath. I am supposed to be an optimist. And as such I am happy a lot of the times. But no one can smile forever. No, let me rephrase that. No one can genuinely smile forever. Just like some people can fake their tears, I can fake my smiles. I can fake my laughs. I can feign happiness. Underneath all my grins and giggles, there are probably things I hate about you too. But I can live with your faults. All of your god damn faults.

So here’s a question.
Can you live with mine?