Fake

Unreal, ingenuine, forced...

Fake.

I hate people like that. The more time you spend with them, the more you begin to see the real image behind the smile.

Fallacy.

I hate it. Despise it. It's despicable. 

You smile like it's normal. You smile like you're happy. You smile like you want to. But it's all forced. You don't smile because you have a reason. You smile because there's nothing else in the world you'd smile for.

Disgusting.

I realize that the more time you're with the person, you seem to believe everything's a lie. That everything fake. That everything's being turned against you.

I feel that way.

Why?

The reason, hah, I'm not even clear of it myself. Why I'm posting this, I do not know, but for some weird excuse, I have to do this. I have to transfer everything in me into my blog.

It's crucifying.

So why don't you wipe that smug look off your face? It's not worth anything to show it to me. I'm worthless crap anyway. 

Useless.

That's why you don't look at me anymore. That's why you don't speak to me. You indulge in relationships with my other acquaintances whilst I stand in the corner, unwilling to speak, unwilling to defend, unwilling to make decisions.

Unwilling to sacrifice.

Hah, what's the point? Like there's anything in the world you can do to help. I was in a stuffy mood today. You were worried, that's obvious. But I don't want it. I don't want your sympathy nor your empathy. I'm sick and tired of the unrealistic reasons to why you stick by me. I hate it. I hate being asked, "Why are you so moody?" or "Are you angry?" or "Why do you look so gloomy today?" 

It's despicable. Those are the kind of sentences I hate listening to. That's why I don't answer. I hate it. There're all fake questions and meaningless to retaliate to. I don't bother. Why should I? You're all fake. Fake, I tell you. Fake.

Who?

Hah, wouldn't you like to know. It's no one unfamiliar, neither are you too familiar with them. Tch, but I'm not going to bother giving details. I'm sick of it.

Clueless, heartless, meaningless, and discouraging. That's what you all are. I get sick and tired of standing by the sidelines when the only thing you do to me is torture me. You use the simplest, yet most effective way of torturing me.

Despicable, I repeat.

Not anymore. You might think I'm foolish. In fact, I think I am as well; writing this in my blog when the person referred to is unidentified. Unknown.

Good, right? That way misunderstandings won't happen. You don't need to bother with who I'm talking about, because you'd probably think of some way to oppose what I'm thinking about anyway.

I hate that. So you'd be doing me a favor by just reading this once and forgetting it the next minute.

Ciao