the devil in me

I've never feel that anyone really understands me, as a person, since I was young. it is ironic that I don't even know sometimes. the thoughts that run through my head are complex contradicting signals, driven by selfishness, stubbornness and self-centeredness. I hate myself and I don't think I can expect anyone to bear with me. it's just too much for one to go through and undertake.

don't ask me why, cos explaining myself is never my forte

don't ask me how, cos most of the time I don't know either

don't ask me what, cos decision making is my weakness

sometimes I wish that my thoughts can be aired live, out loud, so that people can hear and know the real me. wishes never come true. I believe that perhaps I should live in solitude, for my patience for anything or any human being in this world is just do little. even to my family members. what is wrong with me? why am I such? who am

I?

I'm just the devil in me.