You’re Not Nice

You’re not nice. There, I said it. I’ve wanted to say it for a long time. I’ve wanted to tell you that nobody believes you. We’re not stupid. We know an act when we see one. We know you don’t really love us. In fact, you probably don’t even like most of us, but that’s okay – we don’t like you either.

In truth, I almost feel sorry for you. I say almost, because every time you spew forth your phony rhetoric, I feel this almost uncontrollable urge to wretch. Why, you might ask, do I feel sorry for you? The answer is fairly simple. It must take an unbelievable amount of energy to keep up such a farce; to love, when what you really feel is disdain

I almost feel sorry for you because you must have real self esteem problems or you wouldn’t feel the need to constantly tell everyone how wonderful, intelligent, creative, kind, loving, supportive, giving, and industrious you are. How you’ve faced every adversity and adversary possible, yet came out this wonderful, nurturing individual. From the way you talk, I’m sure you must float out of bed each morning on a ray of sunshine. I bet even when you fart the gases permeate the air like lilacs.

I almost feel sorry for you because if for five minutes you could stop playing the part, if you could stop trying to control every situation, if you could let go of the bullshit and just be real; if you could let someone else have an opinion; if you could stop thinking only you have a brain, then maybe, just maybe, you could have and be a friend. The fact of the matter is, nice people don’t have to tell others how wonderful they are. Anyone can bandy about a few hugs and compliments. True kindness come from the heart.

In case you need clarification, I’ve been so kind as to provide a link:

Unfortunately, you are too afraid to let go of the power you believe you need. You are afraid to let people get to know the real you. Instead you choose to stay locked in your imaginary world, where everyone loves you and you love everyone. I almost feel sorry for you because you don’t know the jig is up. Hugs can only go so far. We see the rage behind your eyes; your inability to really connect with anyone; your need to own us. We are no longer amused. If it’s minions you want, take your business elsewhere.

If you’re wondering why I never told you this before – the truth is – I’m nice.


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