I can’t stand being around people. None of that “ppl r shyt” bollocks tweens love. I utterly despise people. I can maybe count on all my bodily digits the people I genuinely like. They just irritate me to no end, and by some miraculous feat I’m actually cordially to these people daily instead of being brutally honest as usual in order to prevent any trouble. It’s the only thing I feel spineless about, ever. Not being honest about how aggressively I don’t like others, unless they cross me specifically.

I honestly don’t even like the majority of my “friends” either. They’re parasites almost. I feel as though they’ll copy me, and emulate me, and borrow things from me, have not a single shred of originality and expect things, and when I say no, they’re little wusses about it. They leech off my efforts and my genuine friendships. At least with my genuine friends I can tell they’re genuine by simply having the desire to have one on one time with them preferably, all the time. Plus my “friends” mostly have characteristics that annoy me. They just have the ones I find more tolerable that turn into a sort of “devil you know” syndrome, so I can call them “friend.” But who really is the parasite though? I enjoy socialising. They accomodate that. I just don’t enjoy them. I enjoy the act. I enjoy commanding attention. I enjoy becoming a ring leader of sorts. Maybe I’m the bad one, really.