The Other Side of Paradise: This is How it Feels to be Self-Obsessed
The day wore on and she was growing weary and angry. Her fingers were banging on the keyboard with every letter she typed. She felt her colleagues secretly eyeing her, wondering what was wrong. But she didn't care because she was fuming. "One of the cons of working for a small-time company", she thought to herself as the faces of certain people flashed across her mind.
She had finished most of her work for the day and had submitted them for editing. Just half an hour left till she could leave and several last-minute correction requests were delivered in her inbox. The worst part was that those specifications had not been mentioned before she'd started working on those articles. This did not ease her thought from the dread she felt about the two-hour bus ride home and the cooking that awaited her once she reached the apartment.
She cursed and cursed in her head. Damn you! Why is it that people never think about what others have to go through? When she finally completed the revisions and submitted them, she rushed out of the office and caught an auto-rickshaw to the bus-stop. All the while, she was praying that she hadn't missed the bus. Otherwise, she would have to wait half an hour for the next one.
Her work made her feel drained - both physically and mentally. But all this hectic workplace environment could still keep her sane because she was afraid... Terrified of being left alone with her own thoughts. It was a fear that overshadowed every other fear - whether it be her fear of insects, reptiles, and fowls... Or her fear of losing her loved ones. It was a fear that forced her to be numb and emotionless. Because when left to mull on her own thoughts, it would occur to her how horrible a person she'd been and how selfish she would always be. It scared her to realize that she would never genuinely put others before herself unless it was to benefit her... She felt this was awfully wrong.
She purposefully refused to acknowledge the fact that no matter what she had, where she got, or whom she was with, she would always be thirsting for something else... Perhaps, something she thought was better. And when she was alone with nothing better to do, she felt it suited her better to drift off into a dreamland instead of trying to convince herself that these thoughts and feelings did exist in her. It was probably because she had no idea how to deal with the awful realization or maybe because she felt more comfortable believing the lie that she was living. Yes, deep, deep, deep down in her soul; she knew that she could never be a good human being with a caring heart.
Every inch of her soul was corrupted and burnt. She could feel it... Yet, she chose to ignore it because in her mind, people were not that horrible. There were people who really did have a heart and genuinely wanted to help others without any form of benefit for themselves... Except, of course, they would feel the "joy of giving"...
She, on the other hand, didn't even know how that really felt like. She would never look at a beggar twice unless that particular action were to make her look "good" in front of others. She would never lend a helping hand, if not for the sense of horrid pride that always fills her heart. No, she wasn't to be charitable without any benefit.
Every affectation was purely for show... So she could gain true affection from others. "Isn't this just wrong?" She would ask herself when the genuine thoughts do play in her mind... If only for a fleeting moment. Then she would brush it off and distract herself with this thing or the other. She had no time to dwell on stupid thoughts that bring her no joy. The harsh truth was that she was utterly obsessed with her own self! She felt that everything in the world revolved around her and that she was special. It sometimes occurred to her that people always thought about her... That every man would be a fool not to fall in love with her... That all the glories of the world were what she deserved to get. How wrong she was! How utterly and drastically wrong! If only she would dwell longer on these thoughts... She would fling herself on the bed and simply cry till she could cry no longer.
Such a horrid creature, living a most made-up life and trying to fit in. She never will because she's not one of them... There she goes again! Another thought of being different from the rest. What lies! Or were they, really?