I write because I’d like to think other people want to listen.
But more times than never, this isn’t the case. I’ve come to learn that most people don’t have good intentions. My first year at university has also made it quite obvious to me that this is a dog-eat-dog world.
And honestly I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it sooner.
The point to being a nice person, is that there is absolutely no point.
Being nice won’t get you anywhere except for that nice little feeling you get in your wittle tummy for that damn millisecond.
You have the choice to be a protagonist or an antagonist in your story. The protagonist is the nice guy. They finish last but they sure had a great time holding the door for that cute old lady with the gold cashmere sweater and the puppy in her purse. The thing about the protagonist is that they just want to be heard.
It’s a question of who is willing to listen. More often than not, no one really wants to.
This Art is Not Polite. 