I am not interesting. I'm not a self loathing bitch, who's telling you this to get pity, I'm just not interesting.

Fact.

So, seeing as being distinctly uninteresting doesn't make a person many friends, I learnt to read myself a life. Not like "I read for something to do because I'm lonely" but more like "here is a book I really like, or even just one character in this book I really like, let me become partially that character, and read more books, and become partially them too, and bamI'm my own mash up of all these stories that are others, and everyone finds me interesting, and I am someone interesting.

Question; how do you become a books characters appearance though?

With movies.

Especially adaptations, that's how. So I did that too. I became all the best and worst parts of my favourite characters so that people would see a depth. And it would be a depth they could justsomehow relate to. They couldn'tquiteputtheirfingeronit but somehow I was familiar even though they'd never met me before. And they had. They'd seen the movies I was reflecting. They'd read the childish books I'd stolen my life from.

And it pleased them.

I am a multi faceted diamond with a personality of glass. Diamonds cannot be broken with time or anger, you can break the chains they bear the weight of, but you cannot break them.

But I am glass.

You can break glass. With the heel of your shoe, with a door snapped open too fast. With a kitten playing with something shiny and familiar.

Glass reflects. I am more than a reflection though, aren't I? No. I am a polished glass, made to gleam as if I were a diamond myself. People see this diamond. And they see the diamond long enough, and they see that the diamond is cracking and breaking and it can't possibly be a diamond if it starts to crack, so it must be… it must be a trick of the light.

Because here is the thing about cracking and breaking glass

No one finds that interesting. Not when what they've seen is a diamond. They just don't want polished educated glass. Not anymore.

And once people see diamonds, why would they want to see glass?

So yes, I am truly uninteresting.

Except when looking at the wrong me.

The wrong me has been described as many a thing, including but not exclusive to: "smart, educated, funny, quick witted, a bitch, cute, brilliant, and interesting.

Interesting.

Not really. I mean, I'm into interesting things which reflect accordingly, but that does not classify me as interesting myself.

Or does it?

I mean, who defines 'interesting' anyway? Because for me, interesting is the best reflection someone can produce. Because everyone is an over embellishing liar, but only because an honesttomotherfuckinggod diamond is so damn rare, and so damn expensive, that it costs you your freedom to lie, and your freedom to be interesting.

No one likes water that doesn't reflect anything. And I mean nothing at all. Because water reflects the sand and the fish underneath.

Not the water they swim in.

No. That's not interesting.

Not water.

No one likes a saint. So we become liars. To put up with the fact that there are better reflections out there. No one likes to know that their cracks show more than someone else's.

It's just not nice.

It's not how liars roll.

We don't lie in a "can I have two bucks for the bus *?*" sort of way, because that's also boring. And fucked up.

So not that…

What I mean is the sort of liar that finds something someone wrote and quotes in front of their friends, without goddamn referencing it, and when their friends find it interesting or funny they say "thanks *giggle*" and not "thanks *giggle* I read it in a book once"

Yes. This means we're all more vapid than we would have liked, for letting friends pose as diamonds, and hiding our cracked faces, and only liking that about them. That they know and hide too.

No one is interesting.

Therefore we all are. In some, cracked, broken, terrible way.

And like a book I once read says

'And we shall love our crooked neighbors,

With our crooked hearts.'

And this is me saying that I was in a bad mood. So I let slip what little I think of humanity. Hope you liked it. If so, lemme know that I can do another one… maybe.