hi, this is noa.
alice, i don't know if this sounds conceited or not, but right now, in this very moment, i don't care. i'm sure it's the alcohol that's talking, but there's nothing more honest and dramatic as a drunk man's tale (assuming that at least a fair part of it is true). i am drunk. hence, i am astoundingly sentimental. and i am wondering and pondering over the same question the rest of my generation is asking. the question that's consistently asked but never wanted answered. i am wondering why people don't understand me.
why don't people understand me, alice? because, i swear, that i am the simple, generic person that you can romantically find in a common coffee shop (or if your preference is the library, have it your way). i sincerely want to be understood, and loved. being the incredibly endearig self that i am, i fail to understand why not. i'm not an egoist, i assure you. but really alice. i want to be understood.
i want to stop having to listen to parents, teachers and even the fucking dog about how i live my life... okay, maybe not the dog, they are seldom wrong, but that's not the point. the point is.. (sigh) ...that i want people to understand me. i'm so sick to narrating my thoughts everyday to everyone. no, let me correct myself. i am so miserable having to tell sugar-coated lies about what i think, just so that people won't start hating me. hell, my life is a small world of politics with people who don't care and aren't worth anything. no, alice. don't worry, you aren't one of those people. you're fabulous. stay golden.
but here's the problem. i desperately want to be understood but at the same time, i don't people to understand me at all. confused? well you see my dilemma? okay, you can't see it. but you can probably see what a psycho i am. it's close to the point, we're getting there alice.
let me clarify. if people understand me (i'm saying if because it would never happen. like, if noa becomes president. or if noa becomes a extra-terrestrial being ), then i am utterly sure that they'll come to hate me. i hate myself alice. and that's saying a lot.
but if there is one thing that i would share with the rest of the world than it's the life i see. the rapid and vivid colors that mean something and nothing at the same time. it's the world of black, blue, red. there's no grey, hesitant colors. just simple, basic colors that everyone can see and appreciate. the dryness, the blunt words, the wild and nonsensical music. and most importantly, in the center, me.
okay, it's the beer talking.
"hahahaha"
you're horrible. are you laughing at me?
"no. i'm laughing at how different we are"
how?
"i'm not in the center of the world i live"
then?
"everybody that i love."
so me?
"hmmmm..."
come on alice.
"i'm not in your center"
well, i'm a conceited bastard. i have a league of my own.
"boo you"
so am i?
"...maybe"
that's not a 'no'.
"...maybe"
hahahahaha. good night dear 'inconsiderate' alice. and after all these times, i thought at least we had something. i aplogize. i was brutally mistaken.
"noa"
yes?
"you're annoying"
i am fascinating alice. get your diction right.
"noa"
yes?
"good night dear 'conceited' noa"
