If I tell you how amazing I am often enough, and with enough ‘confidence’, you’ll believe it, believe me (Or else you’ll pretend to believe it out of politeness, which is good enough for me if you do it properly).
I often tell people that I’m scintillating, superb, sparkling, incredible, impossible and infinitely impish. Way I see it, if I go around asserting I’m ordinary, people are bound to believe me sooner or later, and I don’t at all want to be regarded as ordinary. Not I. I’m a masterpiece, one of a kind, and don’t you argue this with me, because I’ll give you stick!
The problem is, I argue this with me, which is why I’m writing this. Maybe if I tell myself I’m (list of flattering adjectives) often enough, I’ll believe it in the end. Lots of people seem to get it right. Why not me? Just because I live in this skin and am used to myself doesn’t mean I can’t be incredible does it? I think not. ‘So there!’ to me.
Although no single characteristic of my personality is unique on its own, there are so many different facets that a personality consists of, that the combinations are potentially infinite. I like this idea. I really do. It’s like genetics in a way, endless combinations and re-combinations. I like mine, most of the time anyway. How about you, you marvelous human you?
