People are Selfish

Whether they greatly desire you, they love you or they just plain like to shag you, they are all selfish. They’d like to do nice things for you, certainly, but they’d just rather not do it if they could, for whatever reason. Like say, they feel lazy.

I was SMS-ing Dr. Seuss today; rather, he texted me first and asked me if I was game for some bondage on Monday. I didn’t have a reason to refuse, and being rather cash-strapped, I didn’t want to either. He told me to meet him at this one particular hotel that was allright in all standards, but one that I wasn’t particularly fond of. I suggested another one, and he said it was much more expensive, and he’d rather not, although in all honesty, I didn’t think it was that much more expensive. I don’t really care, to be honest, but I it rather amusing how someone can say they really miss you, and not want to do some little favour when you asked for it.

Ethan is even weirder. He is nice to me (obviously) and does little things that I appreciate, but I think he only does them as long as they make him feel good about himself at the same time. There was once I fell really sick (blasted Pill); that was in Saigon, and he offered to stay with me that day to make sure I didn’t die or anything, and brought nice things for me to eat and made tea, so on, so forth. Of course I appreciated it, but I found it rather annoying as well because I had wanted to be left alone. But I think it strokes some sort of self-consciousness in him and makes him feel rather good about himself. He probably also liked telling me what to do. ‘You should eat something’ and he kept on bugging me to do it. Almost as if, if I did it, and became better, he could be proud of himself. Then oddly, when I had a god-awful backache one night, which really hurt like hell but could be ignored in certain positions, he didn’t particularly see the need to give me a massage and didn’t. I got pissed of course but pretended that I wasn’t and carried on watching the news on TV. If I’d looked at him, I knew I’d just get more upset. He went to bed then, and asked me to give him a kiss; I sneered at him.

The next morning he said he really loved me, and I went, ‘really? Then it’s not really worth much. How much of a sacrifice anyway is giving me a massage. Especially when I really needed one.’

What can I say, whatever it is, nothing will surpass self-love. And I can tell you frankly the only time I do nice things for people is when doing nice things for them make me feel like the paragon of giving.

xoxox