What do you want to think of? Him? Your best friend? That one guy who never gave back your pencil? Or do you want to think of yourself? No, you say. You let out a chuckle, why would you want to think of yourself? You're the most boring person you know. Thinking of anyone else is easy. Think of their jokes, their looks, or maybe how unlikeable they are. They wouldn't even know if you thought it. Be more positive, she said. I'm getting bored of her ranting, he thought. But did he really think that? Or are you just making this up? You wonder if other people feel like this. No, no they wouldn't. They don't have a reason to! They're so much better than you. Do they know that? What if they want to be like you? What if they wanted to be like the person you hated the most? Maybe everyone feels this way. You're overreacting, you thought. You know you're telling the truth. You never lie to yourself. Like the time you thought that you didn't need 3 meals. Like that time you thought that they wouldn't care if you- Just. Nevermind. You may think that this poem means something. But it really doesn't. I can say this with a cold voice, with no emotion. This poem holds no emotion. It's just a concept.
Not sure if this is a vent or a short story kinda?