me, whee!

the more i think about it, the more i realize how fundamentally narcissistic i am. (i would go so far as to say this applies to many more of us than not, but for now i steer clear of making baseless statistical statements. this post, therefore, is about me alone.)

i seem to love everything that i associate with myself - my parents, my sister, my childhood, the schools i attended, the friends i have had, my books, my music, my memories, you get my drift (my drift, ha). not only that, i certainly love my parents, sister, childhood, etc. more than i love anyone else's. isn't it strange? is it?

... my country, like no one else's. my dreams, my aspirations, like no one else's. well, maybe that's not true. maybe yours too, but only because you are one that i love.


nb: the title of this post is, in fact, the world's shortest poem (courtesy muhammad ali).