Sunday, August 3, 2014

Who the hell am I?

A part of being a good writer is the ability to move outside oneself and see oneself as others do. There are days when I ask myself: Do they even know who I really am? Or do they see me as someone that I'm not?  Have they bothered to try to get past the first layer of my personality, or are they under a misapprehension that what they see is what they get?

These questions lead me to ask myself: Who the hell am I anyway? Who am I under all of the innocence, love, giggles and happy happy joy joy? Am I really a nice person, or am I a bitch in disguise?  Maybe I am somewhere in between. Under all the sweetness and light there is a darkness: a cold, cruel, and sadistic side of me that most people don't see, or don't want to see, or see, but don't want to admit is really there. 

I only look sweet and innocent.


I enjoy making people uncomfortable. Watching people squirm is satisfying for me in a way. 



Avenue Q labeled this schadenfreude

There is a Japanese term for this, called yanderi (spelling?).



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