The Spam Machine

With careful examination like an ocular to a specimen, you can say that I am a frank and honest person. Well, you don’t really need to do a careful examination, as long as I have my mouth open, you’ll be having insanity problems with me. Yes, my words kill. My words kill in loudness or in silence. I can be frank and silent, believe me, I’ve done that. As an angry person, that is, I just keep my mouth shut, which, rarely happens. I can be egoistic sometimes, no, wait; scratch that, all the time. Now who in this world would deny that I’m overdosed with my superiority complex? I guess no one, as far as my memory can reach. I mean, yes, I can go Wow you're incredibly stupid on you. But sometimes I go loco, and unintentionally get into a trouble or two. However, these troubles don’t necessarily mean physical fist fights; I’m more of “verbal assault” type of person. This is mostly the root of my, as so they say, “Incomprehensible” personality. I wonder sometimes though, do people really have to hate you for who you are? Or maybe they’re just a little pissed off? Or maybe your life just sucks and you’re a nerd without a social life? No, definitely, I am not a nerd. I am actually saving my allowance so next time in another time in history, I can establish my name beside Ferdinand Magellan’s or Napoleon Bonaparte’s, with the glimmering text: “Nuevo, the sexiest nerd-hater alive.” Well, if I’m still alive in that time, otherwise, “Nuevo: the sexiest nerd-hater ever lived.” I have this mutual hate for nerds, as much as they hate me. Believe me, I’ve been there; down there, where the light of the sunshine never dares go in. I was a nerd, alright, a math dweeb whose only goal for the day is to solve for another x, or a y. It doesn’t just make me laugh, the entire I-was-a-nerd thing, it makes me hate myself. Why did I ever even bother entering the nerd kingdom? Anyhow, moving on with my abhorrence, I can say that I am a proud contender of my emotions. Not that I can just go shush when my heart is already bailing out of my chest, or not that I can just go WALOLOL in a very unrespectable manner when my mind is still sleeping. I know how to handle them, if not maybe even tame them. It’s my emotions that are easy to discipline, but when my mind goes berserk with crazy thing, I get all blabbermouth-y and asshole-y, you could say that. But, when it comes to passion, I cling onto them as much as I could, because they seem to fight back always. I mean, I did like math before, now it’s at the bottom of my list. I did love music before, now I’m at the bottom of its list. I cling on like a wild cat holds on to its prey. I fail most of the times though, since my fingers are worn-out typing this profile which, if you manage to read up to this point, might have bored you. So right now, I’m shutting up so you can go to my blog and read what I write. So you’d get to know me more. No, seriously, I’ll shut up now. Now. Now. Now. Now.