I wonder what people see.

I know I shouldn’t care about what others’ think of me, or think in general actually.. but sometimes I do wonder. I wonder what people see when they speak to me, I wonder what they think. My curious mind wanders. With the women, I wonder if they think I’m shallow and / or boring. With the men, I often wonder why they speak to me sometimes.

Not saying that I get too bothered or caught up with what people think, I mean I still do to some extent of course.. we’re all human anyway.

But seriously, when a guy approaches me, I instinctively feel / know that he’s only got one thing on his mind. Not that I mind of course, I mean we are all inherently sexual creatures I suppose. But you know, I think I’m smart, I’m funny, I pick things up quickly and I am a good conversationalist. I do actually believe these things.. but I sometimes feel like when guys talk to me, they don’t care about them. Maybe that’s alright? I am not really looking for a relationship of any sort so I can’t really complain, but there have been a few guys whom I felt were not too bad. Problem is, I never hear from them unless they’re drunk / wasted and horny. And it’s always in the wee hours of the morning (here in SG anyway) and at night for them, wherever they may be, in Europe or the UK. Does this make me a sexual object? Or a personification of their sexual desires at that point in time? It’s really an awful feeling. I try to shrug it off, but it really really bothers me.

It’s one thing to choose not to be in a relationship at this point in my life, but it’s a whole other ball game when nobody really picks you either. It’s like, there’s always some other woman / girl who wins. Guy X will contact me for easy things, but try really hard to win over woman Y, and will then proceed to date her, putting in all the effort and time. Am I accepting scraps? Is this really my own doing? Perhaps it’s a question of self esteem that I allow for these things to happen.. but I really really hate men. Like, I loathe the very idea of them. Egos, arrogance, lust, passion, desire.. it’s all so.. well, easy. Men are easy creatures. But then again, who am I to talk? I am pretty much handing it out to them, at times I even feel obligated or bad when I don’t feel like playing their game. Now THAT has to be bad.

It’s something I have always known but had trouble accepting. I am basically a sex object. I have a mind; powerful at that, and I have opinions and thoughts, which I often have to internalise. But why? I think, I’m really just so complex that even I don’t quite understand myself. I like balance. I like both aspects. Physical is always good, but just that and you feel like a commodity. When I lack mental stimulation and exercise, I go a little insane. The former, I seem capable of doing for myself, but sometimes it would be nice to share that with someone. For once, why do these guys just never see past cleavage? It would be a nice change.