I think I know what my problem is… I think too much and worry too much. I am thankful to Allah for everything I’ve got and for the person that I am, but somehow I feel like I should train myself to lighten up a bit. I’ve realized that I’m an extremely high maintenance person.

I hate it when people don’t care about things that I have added a certain value too. I hate it when people give too much value to something that I’ve found worthy of discarding. I chose not to live life off the record. Disregarding the absolute notion of God, I live life as if I’m actually being watched.

I tend to give too much excuses to people that it actually gets my family to hate me. Sometimes it also gets me hurt. However, my continuous judgment of other people’s understandings, ideas, and beliefs has shifted my life into one line; straight or crooked, I don’t know. Those who drift off that line fall outside my “zone”. I don’t have acquaintances or friends of friends or exs. Everybody’s either a best friend or someone flushed down my brain toilet. I hate easy, I hate it.

I am not a chit-chatter. I hate uttering sounds and letters and vowels for no reason… even though, YES, I am in love with my voice. I think that sometimes my attitude towards the art of conversations gets on people’s nerves; even though if sometimes I don’t mean to.

A non-verbal conversation is easier to translate. Sometimes… it’s easier to sit at the end of the table and quietly judge, pull their puppet strings every once in a while.

The return of my inner dark prince.

I should lie lose a bit, lighten up, wake up and smell the flowers. I’ll get to it.

In the mean time, I’ll keep listening to what the dirt bag in my head is saying.

The oldies in my head do sound tempting, seductive, and kind.