The Person In Me

Categorically, I am not your cute & sweet girl on the block. I hate most things in this world more than I love them, which makes me skeptical about happy endings or even happy thoughts. Matters of everyday life don’t really end up gleefully, most of them don’t, instead they seem to have all chosen to give up at a certain point where people had to start weeping and looking for hope in the sky above. I also feel that that same sky up above will be crashing one day. I smile because I look okay when I wear one. I speak only when I feel the need to. I eat only when I’m hungry, and when I am, I think of chocolates first – the more I think about that brown devilish food, the more I stay away from it. Nevertheless, I know when to indulge. I don’t talk too much as that is the only way I can spare you from insult and sarcasm. Yes, I feel better whenever I get the chance to unleash the bellowing mockery inside me. If you think I can be easily approached and dug up, you thought wrong.  If you need a good knocking on your head, you can talk to me. If you think I have the possibility of becoming friendly and sweet, you thought wrong again. But above all this, if you conclude that I have a hostile and unrelenting heart, then you are definitely wrong about me. I am the most sensitive person on earth. I know when you are hurt; I know what you need; I know what you think of something. But I really don’t care, not unless I have to. Loving a man is the most mishandled plan a woman can ever make. I know that in loving someone, according to the essence of the word, regardless of the ‘craft’, I will be redeemed from hating men. I am beautiful but I don’t blow my own horn. I admire people who talk with a lot of sense for I once blabbered air, but learned. Who I am now is the person I chose to be. If history is to be re-written, I would still choose the same person in me.