Sometimes, I wish I was adopted. Or that I could build a time machine, travel back in time and either prevent my parents from meeting or kill my grandfather.
Of what use is family? I could relate to only 20% of them.
I got some connected relatives, but their connections are all useless to me.
Najib is my uncle. Twice-removed, yes, but uncle nonetheless. I was supposed to be the next KJ.
But apparently, I don't need to be extremely corrupt and sell my own country like Boris Yeltsin did to Russia.
And I'm still hot stuff.
And I am that damn good.
Regardless of the fact that my five friends who are going through horrid divorces did not take my well-constructed advice and are now in deep pain, deep shit and deep depression.
C'mon, man (and woman). I know strategy. I study human information flow. I wield information like a sword. I was trained by my inadequate but well-meaning parents, subjecting me with several psychosis, to win.
I know how to win. Listen to me. I love solving other people's problems. So I don't have to face my own problems.
Oh well. No one ever listens to me. Six years later, or sometimes six months, they always crawl back to me and tell me I was right.
Dudes (and dudette), you don't have to tell me I'm right. I KNOW I'm right.
With a mind this brilliant focused on anthropological information flow and psycho-analysis, I'm right about everything.
