it's sad how i have become, not immune, but hardened to the things others tell of me.
i guess i can't control what comes out of other people's mouths, and i can't control what others think. i can only take solace in the fact that those who really matter will know who i really am.
fuck the rest.
it is hurtful (and if that's what the other party/parties mean to inflict, then congratulations to them) , and mind-boggling to be used as fodder for talk. it's not that i haven't been guilty of it myself, but i think i can quite safely say that i don't go around shooting my mouth off much.
hearing spiteful remarks of yourself being so callously thrown about, and cutting rumours being mindlessly passed on from mouth to ear - it's hard keeping the fences up to shield myself from being torn apart by the vultures nourishing their insecurities.
and it makes me extra wary, seeing that most of these said creatures are the acquaintances who greet me with charming smiles, but daggers stored in their hearts.
sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. in the long run perhaps, for they seldom fail to send ripples of self-doubt and pain initially. i've always tried to shrug them off since i don't have any say in them anyway, plus the teeny fact that my conscience is clear. though i admit that sometimes, they're good in that they provide me with things to reflect upon. *shrug*
but i guess it's always easier said than done/meant.
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