Self-pity Synonym Novels & Stories

His face twitches in a vicious laugh. "Shut up, you insane psychopath !" "Psychopath ? I see myself more as a complex man. Pampered, selfish, vain and fucking indifferent, yes, but a psychopath, no”. "I see a bad moon arising". I begin. "Really ? Singing ? Now ?"

The reason the system asked me to smash the police car was so that I would have an alibi. Even though it asked me to self-sabotage, it wasn't trying to harm me. Since I had figured that out, I raised my hand and slapped Maxey in the face with all my strength! "You fake scum!" I repeated the line the system told me to say. "Who do you think you are to meddle in other people's family affairs? Why don't you mind your own business and stop staring at someone else’s wife! You know I can’t produce the documents, so you intentionally try to stir crap. I think the one who took the documents must be you!"

I just want to sleep, is that too much to ask? Finally, it is Saturday again, and I have a full nine days until school starts again. That is a sizeable amount of time to catch up on sleep and hang out with friends! Well, in between studying, of course. I have been so stressed out and a bit down lately, which is totally out of character for me; I am all sunshine and rainbows, not rain and storm clouds! One of my top five pet hates is pity. When someone pities you, it is as if they have a bit of control over your life; they know what weakens you, what worries you. It is as if their life is much better then your own, which I will not allow to be true. So I throw my negative self into work, or s

I nurse that all my life and can't even differentiate between love and pity. Most times people speak to me because they feel sorry for me. “Poor child," and somehow I have felt a fraction of self-pleasing. Probably if I act in this kind of way, he might play with me.

I wish I was like that, but I wasn't. I closed my eyes for one long moment in high hopes of looking back into the windows of his love. I don't feel shit. Actually, I feel one shit. Pain? Agony? Anguish? Hurt? Jesus Christ, how many fucking synonyms of this excruciating feeling exist in the fucking dictionary. Different spelling, same fucking feeling.

"You can never know everything about a person, Heather. We don't even know everything about ourselves. Also, I do not need pity from one more person, especially from my wife." She frowned. "Benjamin, sympathy and pity are two different things. All I'm trying to say is that, the bad things won't chase me away." "Even if my bad habit of having several women kicks in?" Her frown deepened. "That is very immature, Benjamin." This time, I failed to hold back my laughter. "Now is it?" She nodded. "We both know that isn't true." "Then why did it make you so quiet?" Her eyes widened a fraction before she dropped her gaze. "Just because it isn't true doesn't mean that it does not hurt my feelings."

“Your not… your not weak. Your strong. Your ours. And for that we love you, remember that. And no one shall take that away.” Upon hearing my voice does the person in question suddenly gasp. Almost like they hadn’t known I was there. The person in question soon speaking there thoughts. “Alex? Is that you?” “Yes mate. It’s me.” “How? Actually scratch that. I don’t want to know. It’s probably just me and my mind playing cruel tricks again.” “Tricks? Again? I don’t understand” “Yes, tricks” “Again? I don’t understand, please tell me” “It’s simple. Anytime I wallow in self-pity my mind thinks I’m actually talking to one of you in turn. To let me think that your actually here when in reality you’r

It was quite hurtful to a person's self-esteem. Ben pouted and said, "How could I not be? He's so handsome. It's fine that he doesn't have a girlfriend, but I can't stand the fact that he has to be with a big man like you the entire time. Sigh! How pitiful!" He sighed heavily. Sean heard it and thought that it was funny. He lifted the corner of his mouth and showed that he agreed. "Now that you mention it, I really do think I'm quite pitiful."

Mutual pity. "Michele, I don't understand what is wrong. Please explain it to me," I stated. I stood now and walked hallway across her living room to be closer to her. She looked up now, her eyes were red and she looked desperate. "You don't understand what it is like to be me. You don't know what it is like to know that you are supposed to be alone. That people, if they really knew everything about you, that they'd think you were disgusting. You don't know what it's like to feel like you're only way to get a connection with a person is to suck it out of a stranger's cock in a dirty bathroom. Didn't you say that I didn't have to talk to you? I am done, I don't want to talk anymore. Please le

“And I don’t need your fucking pity. If you think that would make me change my mind about the both of you, then you are sorely mistaken—because I won’t!” I shook my head. “Of course, I don’t pity you. This is just my last act of kindness to you as the girl who helped me out of the slums. This is my last act of kindness to the girl who protected me from bullies in high school. This is my last act of kindness to the girl who taught me that self-love and self-confidence aren’t expensive, but simply a matter of mindset.”