Low Tolerance Level

As only those whom are close or are beginning to get close to me or are already closed off from me know I have a low tolerance level. A level that is efficiently hidden beneath an oh, whatever exterior that will only surface unless provoked.

Up front, I may not seem to be affected by the nonsenses happening around me but do not let this deceive you. I have many pet peeves. Too many. I try not to let the littlest bit of rubbish you throw my way get to me but sometimes it can't be helped. You are who you are and if you are one who just loves flaunting the rubbish you generate from within, hey man, who am I to stop you??

Trust me, you've got one big one coming your way. When I've had enough of this pollution, I'll throw it all back to your face from here till Sunday so fast you won't know what hit you.

Oh, my God. Please. Stop it, lahh. You make people sick with the kind of toxic waste you produce. Your very presence makes others want to get far, far, away from you. Like to Greenland kind of far, you know??

I am not impartial to people like you. In fact, I loathe people like you. But for propriety's sake and at the risk of making myself the World's Most Evil Female, I force myself to keep quiet and try not to over-react.

I feel the pressing need to clean up this world and rid it of scums that share your personality. Just so it becomes a much more environmentally-friendly place to live in. Who knows, you might even be the one contributing to Global Warming.

Why does every sentence that comes out of your mouth begin with "I"?? Why do you seem to think others have the need of hearing everything about you?? How is it possible to think that it is you that the world revolves around?? Are you God?? Do you realize that after awhile, you sound like a broken record begging to be played?? You should not need to beg --or brag-- your way through to get someone's attention. It just screams of desperation. You should not need to stoop so low to that level. Have some dignity, please.

There is a name for people like you. It's called Loser. With a capital L. I kid you not.

This is just one type of you. You, being the type of pollution. The type that can be compared to air pollution, noise pollution and attitude pollution. Yeah, I made the last one up. It refers to you and all whom are similar to you. There are many types of attitude pollution. The ones who just irritate the heck out of me and instead of being an asset to the society, you're just a liability. Kinda like a slug sucking on one's skin. A bloodsucker of sorts. An acne on one's back. A pimple on one's nose. A bad taste left in one's mouth. That sort.

Seriously. Stop it, lahh. Your efforts of trying to appeal yourself to others only apply to those whom are deaf, blind or dumb in ways you cannot imagine. And I don't mean the physical type of appeal either. Your kind will try to get whatever appeal in any way of form they can. Hard up for attention.

Even those who are not blind but deaf can see right through you. Even those who are not deaf but dumb can hear right through you. And vice versa. No offense to those with physical disabilities because in truth, I respect them more than I respect you. They are much smarter than you.

Anywayz.

If it were up to me and my evil self, my foul-running mouth and my acid-laced tongue would probably slice you down to the waist. That would be if I was having a good day. Evil on a bad day is probably one of the worst concoctions ever. It's positively lethal.

Please, don't test me. Being silent about it does not mean brushing it off. It means I'm keeping what you've said and done and storing them for later. I forgive. But it is highly unlikely that I forget. It's something that isn't one of my virtues.

Jan is right. I was probably born evil.

On good days, I look at you like as if you were some form of cheap entertainment for me to amuse myself. On bad days, that's when you're the pollution that never seems to stop chugging out the bad stuff. It's so unhealthy it makes others want to kill themselves. Just due to your presence.

Unbeknownst to you, I conduct post-mortems. Of course, it normally features you. And you. And of course you. I would never forget you. The day an outing fails to deliver a post-mortem will probably be when hell freezes over. Because there is virtually no hope of you changing, that is fo' sho'. So now you know.

I thought discussing would at least bring out some good. The barest hint of frankness laced with soft sarcasm would do the trick. Or so I thought. No change whatsoever. My words got lost in that thick black cloud of dust clogged in your brain, subtlety or otherwise. If you still happen to have one, that is. I'm sure you do. You're quite the intellectual.

Have you ever felt frustrated by lack of couthness and etiquette?? The lack of moral upbringing, perhaps?? You wonder where these people get their manners from. Ohh, my fault. They don't have any. You wonder to yourself, am I stuck with a caveman or what?? Did I somehow timetravel back until I reached the Ice Age where Man was barely beast?? Seriously, do people have these anymore these days?? What happened to the days when politeness was a prerequisite in daily living??

Hello...Social Conduct = 0.

And you wonder, is this part of the Kiasu Singaporean?? This by the way, is another form of attitude pollution. Social status notwithstanding, I believe every human has to have AT LEAST a minimal amount of decorum. We are not jungle people, we are sophiticates. You don't need to live in a palace to know and have good manners. And that includes elbows off the dinner table.

I am not claiming to be a refined snob. Obnoxious I may be. Arrogant in ways you cannot imagine. All with good reason. I turn my nose up at people with no manners. Sometimes, I feel that I am too cultured to be within their company. Honest to God. With their level of code of behavior, how can you blame me for feeling otherwise??

But at least I look left and right and make sure others have at least something on their plate before starting on mine.

You?? You just steamroll your way, uncaring of whether anybody was lacking. Your version of caring only extended to yourself and the fact that you would be going home with your stomach bloated. Any less than that and complains would be issued. Not enough, you say. You're one to talk.

Really, some people. So hard up on the notion of food going down to their bellies, just making sure their bellies are being filled. Greedy pigs. Greedy, greedy pigs. Boy, I should have whipped out my camera to take you scoffing down your food. Even the way you eat disgusts me. And I wonder, how is it possible that I am sitting at the same table as a bunch of savages ravaging their food as if there was no tomorrow?? It is enough to make me lose my apetite. And what a waste if I had. The food was delicious.

Heck, maybe you're even worse than the potbellies at the zoo. You're like, a whole other species unworthy of being compared to an animal.

I don't expect you to change. You can't change. You'll never change. And I won't persuade you to change. Because if you change, I wouldn't be able to write this. But I do feel sad for you. Sure, you could end up living the life only schoolkids can dream of, living the life of the rich and famous.

But in reality, you really are the dirt on my car's wheels. You only think you are worthy of all the world's riches. But even those are crust-deep.

And I changed my song. It just ain't right with my blog. Not a Happy People's kind of song. More like Horny People.

Laterz...
Lenny