I’m better than you.

I was tempted to pursuit that innate desire for attention.

Temptation had won.

Will I do everything to please, and thus to disprove myself in my own eyes?

I am afraid of hypethetical demons.
I beat myself down to the point of humility, when I should proclaim, as you all do,
I am the greatest.

I am better than you; and the only reason you hate me is because you think like me,
talk like me- you are like me (only in physical form) and the only difference that seperates us is how we define each other;
not as human beings but according to animalistic nature.

Survival of the fittest, never meant the strongest.
Mind over matter, bitch.
But, how convinient for you to misinterpert, if you like what you think you’ve heard.

I am better than you; and I am more subjective, when I compare us.
In fact, I favour you in my jaxtoposition, because I hate me so much more.
I’m sorry to be appologetic, but your intellectual skills don’t impress me.
If you hang on to your IQ you’re nothing but the simplistic method that calculated it.
Your way of thinking is pathetic; philosophy goes beyond physics the same way I surpass you.

Why would I be ashamed to have offended you?
Why would I waste time on a debate?
Your stance would be “the louder you are, the more right you are”
while my superiority complex silently boils over.

I blame me; when I should be blaming you. Again, overcomplicating, pressuming you can’t be blamed for not knowing what you do.

Show me you’re deeper than a puddle of mud;
instead, you bore me, but this boredom fascinates me to the point of stalking.
Stalking you is a form of masochism.

What is it like to be stupid? Careless, feeling omniscient because you’re oblivious to how insignificant you really are?

“What is it like to sit alone at lunch?
-It sucks.”

If I had a licensee to kill, you’d never contaminate my world with your ignorance.

But then again, without you, I’d be incomplete.
You feed me with anger (with anger comes action, reflection, redemption),
with revelation (with revelation comes understanding),
with a feeling of injustice (that builds my own concepts of what just is)
and finally with acceptance and satisfaction that I am better than you.

And without you, I’d never know.


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