New York has made me a narcissist.Even though there are close to 8 million people in New York, it is rare that the residences of this great city think of anyone but their own jaded selves. Unfortunately ,since I have breathed the air here,I have caught the same infection.There are two things that make me smile besides the occasional cute child and pair of shoes and I have schemed a way to get them from different sources.The first is my love of adventure and passion, I know it sounds cheesy and lustful but hey I'm Spanish, it's in my blood. But lately, it has worn thin and become nauseating. Like no one wants to be force fed bullshit and I have an especially sensitive stomach. Usually, I'm excited to encounter a challenge and spark up a romance but like I said New York has made me a narcissist. I laugh because sometimes I can't believe the cajones that I have grown. I literaly told someone, "I am too fly for this shit." and totally meant it. I hate to be crude but I stood there the whole time picking someone apart in my mind and shaking my head because I did not feel entertained. My mind was saying, "Damn homie. In high school, you were the man homie. F*ck happen to you." But I digress. It just got me to thinking of how unacceptable it is for women to be perceived as shallow. I mean seriously, if we are to lose our looks, guys turn their heads in disgust. But what happens when we get disgusted?It was very hot and cold to say the least. I felt bad for not wanting to be as affectionate, but if I'm not interested then it will show. The whole time, I was thinking of my hair and secretly couldn't wait to get home and lay these naps down with that miracle cream. That box containing a little bucket of chemicals is God's gift to a black woman. Once again, New York has made me a narcissist.On the other hand, I have completely taken power into my own hands by granting privilege. I gave someone an offer that I figured that they don't receive very often. Therefore, establishing my own superiority and sense of being. It's like I feel as if this little dork should be grateful that I even had the thought. To be honest, I think he is fantastic and just wanted to see what would happen. My sarcasm is deadly and sometimes it can push the send button on my Sidekick before I get a chance to think it over. New York has made me a narcissist.Now the last thing that strokes my underdeveloped ego is a little more complicated. This one here is special. I did tell you that New York has made me a narcissist, right? Good, I thought so.Well, see in this case I figured that I should be the most important thing right now. I like me, she is pretty effin awesome. I mean I'm pretty cute and I smell nice. I'm clean and I know lots of stuff, like is that enough to entertain? Wrong. I don't know, this fascinating artist has a crowded mind and an even more crowded blackberry. His dreams are all the noise that he hears sometimes. Not including Tuesday and Sunday nights, see that's when his ears hear me. But that doesnt include those times when there are long trips to LA or DC. I mean Tuesdays and Sundays are good, right?Sometimes I get a whole 30 seconds, when that new amount pops up on my debit card. I think my personality is pretty fantastic and I have nice legs but I guess that doesnt get noticed under a pile of papers. Maybe my self importance is screaming through forced smiles. But then again, it could just be my pouty whining. I mean New York has made me a narcissist.
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