They say we can’t love someone until we love our self. I’m thinking, my problem is that I can’t love anyone else because I’m so in love with myself.
When I go on Instagram, I don’t look at other people’s photos, I stay and browse through my pics only. I like all my pics posted.
When I get a glimpse of myself in the looking glass, I want to run to it and make out with it; I always stop and stare.
I only drink champagne and wine off the finest vines.
I only eat at places that serve food on oversized plates in undersized portions with a pricey price attached to it.
I argue with myself, but it is I who wins, every time.
Beauty and Brains: I have it all, I am a winner.
I don’t care who I hurt or offend, every man for himself. Someone will care for me no matter what I do. I’ll always have that dumb bitch, or stupid mother fucker to blow over and have come back to me.
Despite the fact there’s seven billion people in the world, it’s still about me.
Window shopping is my favourite thing to do, mainly because I constantly get to see my reflection. It has nothing to do with the fact that I like spending other people’s money and not mine. I wonder how much I cost. Well, since I’m me, I’m priceless. Who cares about the inside, everyone knows it’s the outside that matters.
When I return to the looking glass, from just a few moments prior, I look more youthful than I did before.
I love me. I am all that with a bag of Frito-Lays and a Diet Coke.
No one will ever be good enough for me.
I purposely pull up right next to people at the stop light. Not to check them out, or see who they are, because I could care less about them, I do it to watch them check me out as I check myself out in the rearview mirror, until the next intersection of course.
No one matters to me. Every man for himself. I’m not selfish, I care how others feel–about me, of course!
I don’t care who I hurt or offend.
Hold up! Let me take a selfie. Time for a Facebook update! And when people ask me questions, I leave them hanging as if I never saw it. Just as long as I get those likes, but I’ll never like any of their posts.
I can’t wait to go on vacation and do nothing but post pics about me! Thank God for social media! It’s such a way for all my fans and haters to follow me. God, why do I have so many haters. Oh, wait, I’m me!
My life is soooooo great! Everyone should be jealous of me.
If I wasn’t me [GASP!] I’d be jealous of me.
“All About Eve”…. Shit! I am Adam and I am Eve. Fuck Marcia, Marcia, Marcia! Who the fuck is she? It’s all about me, me, me. I love me. I swear, if I was not me, I’d date me. My bodily fluids should be frozen and turned into some sort of serum or cure for hideousness. I would love to have children, but I don’t want to because they might overshadow me. Then what? I’m going to be like everyone else? Ha!
God, everything I do is so great!
I don’t care who I hurt or bother or annoy. Get off my ass, out of my lane, out of my way, and away from my territory.
Everyone just hates on me! I’m too good for them anyways. I’ll come around and make nice when I’m feeling sad and lonely, after the party is over, just so they can kick me back up and then we’ll do it all over again and act like friends in a few months. They’re the fake ones, not me.
Time for another selfie! So much has happened. This time I won’t smile, so people can think something is wrong and ask me questions I will ignore so I can look busy and sought after. Or should I suck in my cheeks and pucker a little to make it look like I had plastic surgery. I would never get plaster surgery. Why would I have to? I’ll just pretend so people can ask me though. Plus, I can make my face look thinner and have my collar bone stick out. My next self will be on me working out so I can get more publicity. Little do they know it is all a show, and of course I’m the star. I would not have it any other way.
I don’t care who I hurt or offend. If someone is in my way, oh well! I feel sorry for them. The top only sits one, and that is reserved for me. They’ll forgive me one day, because I am me, of course, beautiful ‘ol me.
God, I make so much money! I have so much to show for. I make so much more than them, all of them. I mean, just look at all my selfies and posts! That reminds me, I need another food post. Those idiot followers of mine love food posts. Stupid fatasses. I have the best style, but the key is to make it look au natural. Look at alllll the places I’ve gone. No one around me has done such things. Look at all the places I represent! They’ll never go where I’ve gone. Never. And every time I go on vacation I make it a known fact! My pictures are worth more than a thousand words! My minimum is a million. And I’ll keep posting my pics to not only overrate my life, but so those who didn’t like my post will.
I am so glamourous. I am the star and everyone is just extras, non-union extras.
No one knows this, but I love saying “I’m broke” so people can beg me to hang out with them, and more so that they can pay for me.
Fuck man! These stupid people keep calling me! What do they want!?! “I need advice…” WTF!?! Who am I? A god damn psychiatrist?!? I’ll just send a text later saying, “What’s up?” But before I do anything, let me drop everything right now and change my profile pics first though.
I don’t give a fuck who I hurt, or what I say! The ball is always in my court. I always have the upper hand. Everyone is considered “the help”.
Bad blood? My hot body is full of it. The only thing I care about is my pride. I’ll never admit I am wrong, and I will never apologize for anything. People will always succumb to me before I to them.
Burn a bridge? Nothing new! I’ll just go somewhere where people don’t know me, put on my best show as the star, and have them wanting more! All so I can get what I want, because that’s all that really matters, me and what I want! They’ll cater to me in no time! Just watch! They always do! I’ll have personal assistants everywhere in no time! I’m so subtle and clever at hiding things no one will ever catch on to me. I’m smarter! And smoother! And better! —at everything!
Shame? Of course I have none, but I don’t let anyone know that.
Me: I’m not cocky, I’m confident; I’m assured! God pulled out all the stops with me. My good looks and sense of style! God! The term “OMG” was derived from someone laying eyes on me. I’m turned on already! I have the slightest idea what an insecurity feels like. Why would I!?! I mean, just look at me, I’m me.
Oh, look! Another mirror…