You constantly cry for attention.It only highlights what you and everyone else already suspect… you are insecure.
Likely your insecurity stems from always questioning if you really ever earned anything by merit. Most people probably hand you things because they like looking at you. But that’s made you vapid, shallow, and unable to perform in any way that adds true value in the world.
Your relationships are superficial. Your romance life always has the shadow of doubt. Does he love you… or how you look? If you were disfigured, would anyone give you a second glance based on personality?
That nagging feeling will keep you looking for validation. It keeps you in the gym. It makes you post photos online looking for praise or positive attention. It keeps you going back for a nip here and tuck there. Before long you’ll look like Donatella Versace with the personality of one of her handbags.
You’ll shift from being the center of attention to being part of a gaggle of women who make rude comments about younger girls because you feel jealous and rude comments about men who no longer pay attention to you.
You’d be better served working on being a better person than hunting for attention constantly, but you’ll likely die young and your grave will be about as shallow as your personality.
An elderly man was sitting alone on a dark path. He wasn’t sure of which direction to go, and he’d forgotten both where he was traveling to…and who he was. He remembered absolutely nothing. He suddenly looked up to see an elderly woman before him. She grinned toothlessly and with a cackle, spoke: “Now your third wish. What will it be?”
“Third wish?” The man was baffled. “How can it be a third wish if I haven’t had a first and second wish?”
“You’ve had two wishes already,” the hag said, “but your second wish was for you to forget everything you know.” She cackled at the poor man. “So it is that you have one wish left.”
“All right,” he said hesitantly, “I don’t believe this, but there’s no harm in trying. I wish to know who I truly am.”
“Funny,” said the old woman as she granted his wish and disappeared forever. “That was your first wish…”
In ancient Greece there was a renowned painter named Apelles who used to display his paintings and hide behind them to listen to the comments.
Once a cobbler pointed out that the sole of the shoe was not painted correctly.
Apelles fixed it and encouraged by this the cobbler began offering comments about other parts of the painting.
At this point the painter cut him off with “Ne sutor ultra crepidam” meaning “Shoemaker, not above the sandal” or one should stick to one’s area of expertise.
I do not know whether the universe is infinite or finite, but i know neither answer would satisfy me.
‘So what you’re suggesting in essence,’ he said,
‘Is simply pretending we’re single instead?
You want me to loiter, devoted to you –
But never acknowledge we’re better as two?
‘You want me to linger,’ he said with a sigh,
‘While you’re on the lookout for some other guy?
You want me to offer my hope and my heart –
While constantly acting as though we’re apart?
‘You want me to simply submit and agree?
To hope for the day when you’ll settle for me?
To wait while you actively push me away?’
‘Precisely,’ she answered.
He whispered, ‘… okay.’
Schrodinger’s Douchebag :Someone who arbitrarily and without reservation will say the most offensive and heinous shit that is simultaneously their “honest opinion” and “just a joke” until acknowledged by an outside force.
I was lonely so I split into many,
to keep myself company and to have something to do;
but once I remembered my origin as one,
I had no one to tell but myself!