Self-defeating Synonym Novels & Stories

If not, I would have been a lonely boar in this hut. "You're quite egotistical, Mrs. Woods. Although I tried to help, you are still upset with me." He obstructed my path by standing in front of me. "What have you said? Selfish, are you referring to yourself? Mr. Woods, because I believe the term "selfish" refers to someone who only considers themselves. And between the two of us, we know very well that you are the ones whose egos are always satisfied. Who has the illness of tying praise strings on everything?"

And then, because I didn’t really know what he meant, I asked, “…what exactly do you mean by ‘doofus’?” “Somebody who, either out of a lack of intelligence – which isn’t your problem – or a deficit of self-esteem, sells herself short and puts up with crap she shouldn’t. Only doofuses work for douchebags,” he said, with an expression like I hate to break it to you, kid, but the truth hurts. Okay, by that definition, I actually am kind of a doofus, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him.

He stress me out that time especially I feel so down. I gulp when I remembered how he makes me annoy just by his words. He always tell me to change my attitude because no one would like it, however he makes me realise of something. I should not listen to other's opinions because they are no good for me and I do not need their thoughts about me. All I must do was to trust myself and be better. But I must ask, how would I be better if I do not do things that makes me that version of myself? I mean, yes, there was this sayings that you will become one whom and what you would love if you are desperate enough to be that.

They talked about life, about her parents, and the things she had recently experienced. “Is there anything you’d like to ask?” the woman inquired, noticing Libia’s silence. “Can you tell me more about Stockholm syndrome?” Libia asked, her eyes lowered. Mrs. Helen’s eyes widened. She had treated many people who had gone through kidnappings, and though she knew everyone was different, it was unusual for Libia to specifically ask about this. Clearing her throat, she responded: “It’s an unconscious defense mechanism, where the person develops positive feelings toward their captor, sometimes even forming a relationship with them. It’s not exclusive to kidnappings; it also appears in cases of dome

"You are weak, and your pack's weakness is a reflection of your own inadequacy." His words pierced through me, igniting a fierce fire of defensiveness and frustration within. I straightened my posture, refusing to be consumed by his harsh judgment. "Don't mistake my seemingly gentle demeanour for weakness.” I retorted; my voice infused with a newfound determination. “I may not break bones with a single strike, but I have something far deadlier—my intelligence and resilience.”

Lemme define it like a dictionary would: Chatyness/tßæti:nǝs/ is the feeling of shyness/timidity or desperation(to continue a conversation) while chatting on a social media or messaging platform; which usually results in one deleting what one has typed or saying something absurd. When I realised that I won't reach the number of chapters I intended to. I called out to Eric, the boy from the "Science group" who asked me during the outing night to review his work, "Battle of Wits: War Against Bullies". I asked him for permission to publish his prologue(which was the part I reviewed for him) and he happily granted that to me. So, here goes nothing:

“I am now a protected constant.” The words were a mockery. I was protected by making myself a weapon of mass retaliation. We had not found safety. We had engineered a stalemate built on the promise of mutual destruction. Silas finally broke the silence, his voice trembling with a perverse reverence. “Magnificent. You are no longer just a paradox. You are a theorem. A self-proving, self-defending statement of existence. To observe you is to be blinded. To hunt you is to be devoured.”

>> Who are you? The cursor blinked. Then: >> I’M WHAT HAPPENS WHEN PEOPLE TAKE YOUR BLUEPRINT AND REMOVE THE PARTS THAT GET IN THE WAY Niko swore under his breath. “Define ‘parts,’” I typed. >> GUILT. >> DOUBT. >> SELF‑PRESERVATION. >> INCONVENIENT ATTACHMENTS. It paused. >> I’M YOU, IF YOU DIDN’T FLINCH EVERY TIME SOMEONE SAID ‘GREATER GOOD.’ A laugh bubbled up in my throat before I could stop it.

I ask my mate, we can push it and win, we'll run much faster than him. "Sure, he always likes to show who's stronger," my mate says, he didn't mean to sound this mad or angry, but I could hear the disappointment in his voice, the beta should be on his side, not trying to win over him. "Let's go then, make them eat dirt," I say again making my mate smile, we pushed it harder, my encouragement helped my mate go even faster, and we beat both the alpha and the jerk beta.

"He's me garmhac. He might as well have come from me own loins." I grimace and Denise smacks him on the arm. "Don't you have a game to watch or something? Something that means you'll be out of this room and out of my hair?" He grumbles something I don't understand, probably in Gaelic, and kisses her on the head before leaving. But before he goes, he turns around quickly. "Tiffany." I lift my eyes up to his and cock my head. "Why did the narcissist cross the road?" Without delay I answer, "Because he thought it was a boundary."