"egoistic" poems
Can you feel all the suffering, can you see it?
Stop embracing the hate of your own humanity, just quit it
Why all the hypocrisy?
Challenge your democracy
Aim for enlightenment
Fight against all ill torment
Oppression, alienation, inequality
The government's manipulative utilities
Explore your human aptitude
Your mind and your magnitude
Because passion is power and
You can make all evil cower
Work to open your third eye
Don't cry or comply, but rather ask "why?"
Empathy and compassion are most important
Without them, moral principles remain impotent
Our world is nothing compared to the entire universe
We are so small, egoistic, and it's getting worse
Focused on all of the wrongs ideals
Creating terrible and false ordeals
Our world is cruel and mean
Too many people die hungry
There's no such thing as equality or true justice
It does not exist in this realm of consciousness
If only we could shift the system and our ways
Then things would continue to fall into place
But change is virtually unachievable
Especially when entities with just intents are inconceivable
Human beings are clueless, trapped in a trance
Don't let yourself fall victim to your ignorance
You need to expand your knowledge and your perspective
Aim to be more pensive and introspective
Challenge absolutely everything you are told
Form your own beliefs, don't let your mind be controlled
Remove yourself from conformity and complacency
And you'll realize a multitude of problems, that I guarantee
*You can't trust anything
Hear what I'm saying
No you cant trust anything
Believing is damaging
Creating is everything, it's promising
Stop adhering to societal norms
Why do you conform
To all that
The government tells us
All that society spells for us
Why don't you realize
Wake up from all the lies
The world is an intricate place, that you can't replace
But you can change your ways and your pace
Create some displacement in the system
Stand up your rights
And what you believe in
Be genuine
Imagine
Not one person, thing, or system
Can tell us, control us, conform us*
With enough minds open and motivated
We can help those oppressed and alienated
We can change this race for the better
Let's all work to be that kind of trendsetter
Come on, let's start a movement
So we can see some real improvement
In our world, our ways, and our wisdom
But most importantly in the system
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
An unkind calmness that took away the solicitude
An unkind calmness that made everything a roun
An unkind calmness that mixed the altruistic with egoistic
An unkind calmness that took an evil tack
An unkind calmness that made solitude more ween
An unkind calmness that made white a black
An unkind calmness that after a fruitful bliss became a dark pandora
An unkind calmness that became worthy of unkindness !!
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
People say I haven't played all of my cards yet
But actually i ran out of decks
They tell me to empty my sleeves from all of the tricks
But the only thing I've got are these lyrics
I bought a gun to **** the person who hurts me the most
But then i realized that will end up shooting myself
i f*cked up a lot and I've done the worst
I need to get my **** straight and my brains of the shelf
I've been a selfish and an egoistic *******
Went on the fast lane and switched of them hazards
'Cause everyone around me is moving to fast
While I'm still in my place looking at my past
My life ain't a waste no it ain't a mistake
That's your life c*nt you ain't got what it takes
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
Let's take a moment
And toast to the inevitable kind of men
The ones we hate to cross
But somehow do anyways
The **** boys
With their egoistic personalities
And no good intentions
They make the world go around
By making us realize
How much better we deserve
So thank you
For being a **** boy
And showing me
Everything I don't want in a guy
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
I still remember
the drawn out afternoons,
the minutes passing without a thing to do,
the clock just a metronome
keeping us in time.
I poked fun at you without reason;
jealousy leads one into themselves it seems.
Do you recall?
We were carnal beings...
I'd apologize for my egoistic banter,
but apologies are best left to the
eulogizer,
and this may be some sort of graveside whisper;
a long-winded to-do list of idle talk.
I'd call you
"Lesbia", "Rosalind",
"my diadem stashed away",
but twenty-two months wore words away
and it would seem like frantic blandishing.
Maybe in my own life
I may be able to demonstrate
what William Yeats had meant
by a body quarreling with it's soul,
but I think -- You're delusional! --
that I could be content.
I remember everything ---
I remember the yielded heart feels a subtle sting.
The yew chattered in the wind outside your
window and I felt rooted
as I told you
I was you and would always be.
But twenty-two months is a long time.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
(Genesis chapter 1:6 and God said: “Let there be a firmament in the midst of the water, and let the waters be divided by the water.” I never understood this statement, well not until I wrote this poem).
The ocean.
It’s just a wetter version of the sky
a graveyard' of poetry
that broke into my heart and open my eyes,
and I saw the brightest darkness mirror reading
handwritten dreams cuffing the stars consoling the rain
whom tears laugh
and in that laughter, I hear the words
God hates you
these insulting tears that only once god could hear
now speaks to me with warring tongues
and I had nothing deep to say
just a crushed sentence
a pile of regret
a sky that jumped on my train thought
and we went from an angelic blue to a halo of black.
God, I do apologize if you feel like I have displeased you.
See I have been searching for a weightless god
because the others are too heavy
and too weak like watered down gospel,
Weak like the dark side of poetry
Weak like a religious inside joke no one gets
Forgive me for you know everything I don't
so tell me am I a self-portrait of you and will you promise to
clean ***** lost souls like mine
and will u forgive me for having an enchanted mind
You see I often mistook you for a poem that has never been written
Mistook you for masculine words that became undone
I mistook you for a selfless father that has more than one son
Mistook you for a sky filled with multiple sunsets.
I know nothing of you,
you unseen god
tell me am I of the other god
am I his fleshly creation standing outside my normal heartbeat
and on the footnotes of his story
standing breathing whirlwinds on death ears of soundless music
into the lungs of his bible
The lungs of his heaven that often resembles the blood stains in his hell
blood that flows throughout my veins and into an anthem of sorrow
Sung with broken tongues
sorrow buried in all kind if ancient languages
And I sit in this hell crying with roses
that's been wounded by his thoughts and
his words shoved into each other and I hate this
so much that I stripped down to pain and
I am exposed naked with caution
and I can see that my heart is a jealous god also
an egoistic ghost filled with love I never felt
a love that has no title
a love I am not entitled to feel
and why should I be
When that god knows I am a sleepwalking addict high off of pain
why should I be when that God knows I am as useless as a headless butterfly
When I should be more like the ocean
Yeah just a wetter version of the sky
The human body is made up of 75% water
(So in Genesis chapter 1:6 when God said “Let the water be divided by the water.” Where did that water go? It is in me).
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC
apologies blow into my face like the
cherry blossom trees are shedding their
sakura petals, or like being held at gun
point. honestly, i'm not sure if i should
see apologies as wedding vows or as
benign threats to my existence. the way
i see it, they didn't **** my parents and
that means i don't have to feel empathy
with fictional characters like batman.
then again, i should ask myself if i do
deserve the apology. for the type of
complex character i've developed into,
i realized how self-absorbed i've been,
seeing how i have compressed the
chests of people just like me without
reason. and for that, i apologize.
- kra
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
She thought she has understood it clear
That love is only a game to play
When she feels bored and out of place
Someone is there, a game to share with
She understood it so very clearly
A game of heart, so let's play it fair
To Win some, To lose some
A love game between two players
The game of hearts,
Attracting, flattering, sweet talking, seducing...
losing or winning
doesn't really matter...
the pleasure is the game...
Just a fling of romance,
In the name of a game
Steal each others heart...
and be safe and sound
a risky game...
to love for
to die for
and to leave free upon a game over
no strings attached....understood it clear
after all.... its only a game of love
She thought the game is in the grip of her hands
understood the game so clear
Played with the rules of the game...
A game is nothing but a game...
Too egoistic to admit...
That emotions and feelings cannot be bought
can never be part of a game...
To these.....
She Lost herself in her own game
Unplanned, Unprepared, Unprofessional...
Both players were
A dangerous game... love is...
What she thought as a play of love
Is a strong flame indeed, hard to put out..
hard to cool off...
what a dangerous game of heart
to play fire with fire
a fire of real desire...
it burns the skin so deep....
The players are hooked in the end..
lost their navigation....in the game they thought
They have understood...
What they thought a GOODBYE
after They grabbed some tokens
as the exchange of love..
is an unexpected FOREVER stays...
In this game of the hearts
Success or defeats...
unskillful Players become lovers...
attached... inseparable...
even when the game is OVER!
When she falls, she falls hard...
play not with the game of heart...
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
Crunching sound beneath my feet,
The feeling of oneness with the dust,
From which I was made,
Every step brings me deeper into my past.
I see it now, the gift of life,
Sprouting from the depths of the earth,
From what we deem lifeless,
Life emerges, in all its fullness.
My toes run through the soft soil,
Each grain screams out a testimony of a million years,
Each stone would cry if they could,
Watching our world nearing its doom.
The fault in our world is not out there,
It is in here,
In the hearts of reckless, egoistic men,
The men who could not care less.
Soil, sand and peat,
Rocks, stones and clay,
All interspersed together,
Designed without fault.
The Creator is all-loving,
Designed us the way we are,
With complete freedom,
And maybe that’s where our flaw lies…
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 12:14 AM UTC
There's a way in which I break for beauties like you. It's a performance piece, not of the egoistic sort, but rather a birthed love-child of servility and altruism. Here's my recipe, if you ever wanted to scrutinise my path to death.
First, i stare. And marvel in awe at the carved beauty of you and wonder how many cities you've inspired.
Second is initiation. A delicate dance to either be executed from a carnal desire or a romantic want. I choose one or another, seldom do I pick both; tho they end the same way.
Third is the burning period. I will saturate myself with unwarranted loyalty at this point. I morph to their warmth and this is where it gets sick.
Fourth: obsession. If you look into my eyes you will see a longing to drown and to go back to the ocean that is you. It's potent enough to drive me insane. Consuming.
Fifth, i surrender. I'd ask you to take off that fire. I want you to still exist but to go burn somewhere else. To be a forest-fire that inspires rather than to maim me insolently.
Sixth is penance dressed masochistically. I torture myself for reasons he wouldn't understand or is justified, but I somehow think it's salubrious.
Seventh concerns with the cycle of death. I die for you, over and over again. I choose to do this.
Eighth is where my pain becomes stagnant and transition into ghosts with names.
Ninth better itself to be the point of moving on and building graves on reverence for even having a taste of perfection.
Tenth, I repeat this whole process.
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
this ribcage is a door behind which hides an ocean
sounds of the waves escape the mouth
I moved around the kitchen as carelessly as I used to
my body independent from the wanting
these egoistic creatures upon which I stand
never made enough use of their strong fibre
rocks and water have left marks on my skin
earth fighting a battle on the surface of our bodies
like bubbles - when you poke it, the air gets out
I belong to you, a bit wearied and bent
diving through each dark coloured leaf
I push my palms against the starlit sky
space between the earth and the moon is mine
I wish you'd make a constellation out of the marks on my skin
and fall in love with each one of them
I wrote it in capital letters so you would know
the adjective that was missing; like your voice
that used to remind me of who I really am
a tree extends across my back as wings would
there is a place on the back of my neck
where you can kiss me and make the branches shiver
so I can feel the eternity rushing through the veins
but »never« is a word unknown to this suit
the future doesn't look so infinite
growing old with the dread of ending
let the body not be aware of its mortality
moon is the heart, stardust is the blood
http://natasek.blogspot.com/2013/03/poem-belong.html
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
How can I love you
when you don’t love me?
Like everybody,
I am a human
And I have a heart,
a selfish heart
which wants me to be happy
So,
Is it possible to love you selflessly?
I don’t know….
Lying in the ground,
If I stare at the sky
and the merrily flickering
white clouds,
I think of you.
And, when the cloud flows
with the help of zephyr
forming your sketch
in the colossal blue canvas,
I adore the view
that leads me to you.
At the nights,
as the cricket sings outside,
I remember the cool autumn nights
when I used to sing
love songs for you.
My voice used to pierce
the soft part of your heart
and with teary eyes; you
used to kiss me at the
pale moon light.
Ah! My love,
that was my paradise.
And Now,
My heart shivers in pain
because it misses you,
your divine touch of
your lips on mine,
and the warmth of
your soul.
My trembling body
rushes towards the window,
and I gaze the shimmering
stars and the glistening
moon.
Each reminds me of you.
But how can I keep on
loving you,
as the very crystal moon
and the gleaming stars
never remind you of me?
How can I keep smiling
when you sketch the face
of some other person
but mine,
on that very lovely
moonshine.
For how long should I try
to be strong,
and
avert myself from
doing something wrong?
No matter, how selflessly
I did start,
I am finding it sore,
to hush
my egoistic heart..
If today I try
to run away,
this breeze with your
aroma
comes my way.
And,
reminds me of you,
Once again.
Once again, I
crave for your touch
and the tears will only fall
with the golden memories
of such.
I want you to know this,
If you decide to leave me
and keep me waiting for you
stranded all alone,
I may no longer be selfless.
My pounding heart may
break into million pieces
and, my love,
tell me how can I still love you
with that shattered heart?
I am not that strong……
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
Oh how I'd love that
and from a San Francisco organization no less
a month in the Santa Cruz mountains, no less
the most liberal city in America no less
and last year's winner has his picture displayed
and it is not innovative or interesting or shocking but all too predictable
Like something I saw how long now has it been? twenty five years ago...
how many times have I seen this picture
a white guy, looking very much the suffering, creating artiste
handsome, like an actor, but not an actor, a creator of meaning
of art, and he can't smile, but looks away from the camera
mimicking an ad for J. Crew
it's amazing how only white men can write about the important things in the world
and the background, how many times before have I seen it
a graffiti sprinkled nowhere in an urban jungle
somewhere where preppy white guys never go
street art, street communication created by people
who don't see this concrete as an exotic backdrop for their egoistic posing
but as a part of their lives, as part of their meaning, their world
and he stands there, in front of it,
Mr. Screenwriter, the gulf of culture separating him from that background
spans the entire country, or an entire universe
but the implication of the picture is: he is home here
this is who he is and he can emcompass everything, since white men
as we know, have a magic ability to understand and synthesize everyone
all genders, all races, all religions
the rest of us are merely stuck in our own myopic little worlds
of gender, race, socio-economic status
but these spanner of time and space and human difference, they can be anyone
they can understand and represent anyone
So I look at the picture
and think, I could apply, but I'm busy during the blissful month of the residency
but how dissapointing, that I feel looking at this picture, now online of course
that it is the same picture that I looked at over twenty five years ago
pinned to a film school wall
in Los Angeles, in New York, in those edgy more conservative places
and it is the same guy. the white screenwriter artist who will write about me
and others and it will be a lie
and we are excluded. all the rest of the human race.
but what he writes will be exalted as truth
when I know, that no matter how time he spends wandering
the foriegn worlds of ghettos and genders
the one thing he knows, the only thing he knows how to write about is
white guys, because he is no superhuman
he is like us. He will write about white guys and there will be
more films about white guys, who are supposed to represent all of us
but they don't, because they are only human,
and can only represent themselves.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC
If every noble cause,
Is mocked by the commoners themselves;
If every good inference,
Is taunted and berated relentlessly;
If all one gets by trying,
Is being brought down using the name of almighty himself,
Then
I don't wanna be good in this world.
If every selfless devotion,
Is only to be taken granted;
If egoistic attention,
Is all that deserves love;
If love is no more,
Than a squabble and a source of hideous pleasures:
Then
I don't wanna be good in this world.
If procurement
Has become more important than the heart;
If anxiety,
Is something people use for diligence;
If sympathy and sorrow,
And not care
And ONLY care
Is what one uses for getting love;
Then
I DONT WANNA BE GOOD IN THIS WORLD.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 12:39 PM UTC
Searching for something
Staying away from interminable pleasure
Searching for something
Helping me from being an elegiac
Searching for something
Staying away from unavoidable relations
Searching for something
Helping me from being an egoistic
Searching for something
Staying away from everything
For making me a peaceful soul
Attained my destination
By preaching Detachment!
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 6:09 AM UTC
F ickle summer [and general] pass-time. Though you hardly
A cknowledge me, I meditate on the virtual probability of our
N on-existent romance, incessantly. Just as I make an effort to
A ttempt to bury you in a dark corner of my subconciousness, you
T ext me! Once again giving me just enough attention so that I'm
I ndifferent to your self-centred, egoistic, promiscuous nature and
C ompletely falling for you instead, as I've done, since the day we first met.
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 6:30 PM UTC
I WAS! DESIGNED! IN CALIFORNIA!
MANUFACTURED IN CHINA!
I WAS! DESIGNED IN CALIFORNIA!
MANUFACTURED IN CHINA...
that's all the U.S.A. seems to be,
an advertising conglomerate,
oink oink it's like three blind men
and Donald Trump:
one touched his egoistic *******
impression and said it was the Mississippi
mud-hole Riviera,
another touched his overweight cheeks
and started to chuckle while calling ************
a bulldog salivating with the cheeks
choke on chuckles you chimpanzee:
chuck chuck, whatever onomatopoeia
five cents spare...
and the last blind mind touched the
over-comb quiff... and he said: by god!
the wind hairstyling grass!
while the Russians sold off Alaska historically,
and are selling bits of ******** Siberia
bit by bit to the Chinese,
evolutionary implementation
of Pan-Eskimo...
you need eyes like slits akin with excess
camel eye-lashes to survive the cold...
like i told you, Russia will end up shrinking
into a border enclosure limited to
starting between Belarus (the ******* Tsarist **** bags)
the Baltic states and Ukraine and ending at the Urals.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC
I was called egoistic
For wanting you
I was called egoistic
For putting my feelings first
But am i really egoistic?
When it's hurting me
Instead of pleasing me
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 3:00 PM UTC
A movie being played in the background with ears
staring on the cell phone waiting for a call ,
eyes wide shut with overdose of lack of insomnia and
there's beer in one hand and laptop on another trying
to digest the revelations this season to quench the thirst
of friendly stranger's envious egoistic minds and mentality.
A movie being played in reality of my life ,
is entertaining than the fictitious one of my dreams.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
1.A walk with one's ego
"Take your ego out for a walk", the master asked, all aspirant monks
one monk who took his pet across the river left it there and returned
the rest after a nice walk hand in hand, brought each, little wet but
rejuvenated, missing master's word in it's real sense altogether,
only for the wise one, the door opened, others had a lesson, painful
2.Tending one's ego
Two monks , still not ready to part with
their egos,tended both the way each deemed fit ,
The first, so obedient, followed his ego like a lamb,
one other made it follow him with it's strange requests,
a third the first one to **** his ego with his sword of mind
kept smiling seeing the misery of both still not bold enough.
3 Catty
Ego, was her, fluffy black pet *****
her show piece, she always loved to pamper,
crafty was the creature, hell bent to keep
her reputation as an attention grabber,
the fact was this, the cat and her mistress
were thoroughly insecure, borrowed colors,
caterwauling in the sound of screeching tires,
she mated with Tom cats that came in jumping walls ,
her mistress was entertained, felt proud,
so ego grew large to the stature of a feline 'top dog',
it's metamorphosis made her owner too bloat up,
Ego one would have to think is her alter ego.
4.I won't ditch my guide dog
Every one thought she was nice, why so egoistic
gets her way every time, projecting her larger than life ego.
"Well it's my guide dog to get around, as I am one blind person,
I am not yet a renunciate on a quest, I chew my bones too well"
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 9:44 AM UTC
Even though we have never met I want to thank you,
for all the things you did and didn't do, for not being true.
For scaring, scarring, smothering and hurting, for no cause,
for making her the women three times the one she was.
For stealing her innocence as she gave in unconditionally,
only to leave and return, threatening to abandon, ruthlessly,
as you played your psychological games, with her life and mind,
manipulating her to believe you're the best she would ever find.
The possibility of sharing ancestry with you, brings me shame,
so repulsive enough to consider changing my family name.
Knowing this relationship was destroying her from within,
being the egoistic ******* you are, continuing instead of leaving.
As she became the compensation for your childhood deprivations,
did you overlook the possibility of this not being the solution?
Draining her passion with conceited affection, at your discretion
for the sake of your satisfaction, but here's a revelation.
She was never going to cheat, deceive or leave, could you not see,
that she was not a part of the vicious cycle of your family?
On the contrary, growing up in this drama, unfortunately,
you became your father, the man you never wanted to be.
Gaining liberation, building walls of caution, she will be fine.
God and patience will lavishly reward her, when it's the right time.
I wish you wealth, health, fortune and a long life of prosperity,
because it is fairly obvious, there is no hope for you in eternity.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 2:19 PM UTC
She Waited for me
On the corners of life
And all the other destinies we have yet to reach
She waited
While taxi cabs of time
With flashy lights
Of forced fake opportunities
With horns of loud disturbance
Like musical madness
Mandatory for all the people
Stopping by
Waving hands of rhetorical questions
With cigarettes of flying ashes
Like the sand boxes that measure time
Upside down
But she refused
She refused because she was waiting for me
Her eyes so sincere
Like poems of honesty
Long lost in humanity
With a laugh of a million stars
Colliding to form a mirage of happiness
Mixed with a sense of existence
Like no other…
She waited for me
But I never came
Her delicate soul
Lingered her impatience a little longer
Her urge to be vivid
Was tamed by the desperate dullness of my presence
Her circumventing vibe of light-like energies
Were hindered and toned down
Just to feed my egoistic
Patriarchal sense of self
Lacking the properties to be a proper man
She waited for me…
As I struggled through
The worldly matters
Breaking glass of shadows
Fighting sin of forbidden years
Destroying fear and respect
With a sense of anger
Clutching knuckles of regret
Proliferating rage
But she was waiting for me
So I fought
I fought for her waiting
She waits for me to fight
And all of a sudden I realize
That I was waiting for her
I was waiting for her all along…
She represented the life I never lived
The decency I never had
The courage I kept within my words
And the light for shadows I lurked behind
And the light for the shadows I now could not seem to find.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 4:52 AM UTC
Death was cloying, the serpent coiled around his feet;
The intimate raven caress before a silent, lethal strike;
Sudden and swift was the exquisite venom of finality;
All things solved in the course of endless time- clarity!
Relentless evils batter unceasingly in an ominous void;
Little to do but enjoy the sight of an impending drain;
Joyless fruition along the edges of this long black hole;
Beckon him a bit forward to a joyous terror-filled fall!
Agony followed by the purest realization of a descent;
Into a deadly maze of self delusion in the word of God;
It calls forth an accounting of his egoistic sins-venality;
Leaving nothing to chance, his target- one more strike!
The blessed rain comes to wash away the dark balance;
Disaster encloses thee tender soul, a lifeless nothingness!
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Such egoistic heads tell not to worry
And at our back talk oscillatory
Bad about us, creating a crematory
Where they bury their own glory.
They have a bad attitude of sanatory
Coward, showy, deceitful, predatory.
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
I too had such a mad hoary
Who was ready with an itinerary,
Where all bad & deceit come corollary
As she had a base habit of obfuscatory.
She knew less concepts contemporary
And thought herself vital primary.
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if I hunky-dory?
We knew those emotions were vapory –
Happy, then sad, angry then nugatory!
Her emotions changed as witch’s allegory,
Hate, spurn, prune are her favourite mandatory:
Now singly fights with colleagues hortatory;
Alas! Does not know her faults & category.
Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if hunky-dory?
At first I tried to be a promontory
So that I can save her crematory;
Blind with pride, less corroboratory,
She spurned me having derogatory.
Now also I pity her as she is a hoary
But wish she improves her oratory.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
I like being egoistic
I like extremes
I think in extremes
I also answer in extremes
I like people who are extremes too.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 5:21 AM UTC