Combustion.

I don't know how to be perfect. I don't know how life gets complicated. I don't like pessimistic. Yet I don't like optimistic. I am a difficult person. Do try to understand me. I want to be alone yet I need to feel that intimate connectivity with someone. I am ridiculously fussy but yet I adapt well. I don't try too hard but maybe I try to little. I have a short temper but yet I have high tolerance for stupidity and idiocity. I prefer things complicated than simple. I don't like to be like everyone else yet I don't want to do much to stand out. I get fed up of people who thinks pretty girls have it easy - pretty girls are judged on more and kept an eye on more. People like to watch them fall. You know how I feel but yet you don't give me what I need. I'm trying roll over white paint on black, but its going to take a while. I have had my heartbrokened and I don't play the game. I am taken for granted all the time - yes, friends are on that list. Most of the time people assume I'll be okay. That I'm cool with it. I didn't know I was/am specially programmed for such. I feel guilty. I feel angry. Is it that time already to push the reset button? I thought I just did a major one. Don't ride me so hard. Yes, I may not be a slum kid in India. I may not be a starving kid in Africa. I may not be an orphan in Haiti. But. Hey, in my books, I matter. So when you sign in your name. Play it by my books. Stop designing your own damn rules.