Random people from my past pop into my head and then I obsess about them, mostly negatively, but sometimes positively. If they are female, I generally am not thinking about them with any sort of latent love interest–I simply wonder what happened to them, and perhaps why nothing ever happened between us.
Relationships with men usually ended negatively, and women positively.
I’ve sought my heart for my so-called feminine side, and it is not as strong as I used to think, or people used to believe. I have more of a negative masculine side–I can’t stand a lot of the things about my culture and other cultures that amounts to men preening their feathers, waving their dicks around, pissing on each other, etc. Most of it is utter BS–men get caught up in fantasy worlds where their image is everything as much as women do.
Image for me is nothing, or so I would like to believe.
Image always disappoints. People spend half of their adult lives building up these personalities, crafting them carefully, and watching with hawk’s eyes for gaps and cracks where their real selves might be leaking out.
They want you to know and love their personalities. I don’t know if I have a personality. I may very well have a few select personalities that I’ve tried to consolidate over time.
I like being liked just like anyone else, but most of the time I attain some degree of affection for my poorly crafted personality.