Evil me, cruel me

For a long time, I've wondered how a lot of people get attention- if you know what I mean.
And for a long time, people I know have also wondered why I even wonder. With a waistline the total of your family's size, it is my stupidity that I should consider myself even- well- considerable. For most things anyway.
Now I know what you're thinking- especially if you're the likes of my close friends.
"It isn't the looks- Radh, it's the person you are! You're beautiful, and charming, and witty." The list goes on. I suppose my eulogy is pretty much in place (courtesy- Maans, Shri, Trupta, Prabhu, Madhu, Kritzel, Radhi, Shitta and co)- all good writers, and the ultimate mood lifters in the darkest of days- but barring a few exceptional occasions of brutality, they've spared me the critic's viewpoint.
Flattered, but not convinced.
I mean, if the world's such a puritan place that goes for the 'person I am', I must have some serious character flaws that either skip the attention of my friends, or they're too kind to admit them to me- that make me such an unlikable, non-fascinating something.
Oh no, this isn't even drunk drivel- this is a conscious question I want to ask you out of very sincere curiosity.
Really, WHAT is it?
Apart from my borderline schizophrenia, my 'temperamental' personality (honestly, Tejashri- I haven't seen a more politically correct term for 'mad as a hatter'! I'm putting it down somewhere) touch-o-phobia (sorry for the black eye, Coll and the scratches, Vinod- but I'm a Ninja in my head) latent OCD, hopeless cynicism splotched with overdoses of haunting optimism, I could say I haven't been made aware of a personality disorder as such.
I know I may be questioning the basic instinct of most of male-kind (and Dad, if you're reading this, ignore most of it) but it surprises me to see that I haven't been exposed to ugly truths yet. I have made awesome friends and a lot of people who feature on that list are honest as that ruddy woodcutter, but I'm up for brutality for the next few days. It isn't even for the hormonal boy-girl thing. I have a feeling I've been missing out on large doses of reality (probably while planning my next Ninja outing) that has been served in moderate amounts to everyone. Without insulting my list of very close male friends- I thought we could talk about anything, ye know? Right from Class 1, I've been told repeatedly about what an exceptional piece of poetry I am. Thank you again, but give me some reviews! Or am I just registered in your head as someone to laugh with and forget? I'm glad to be that shoulder you're always in the need of but PLEASE, I'm sometimes a little more than that. Not to be misinterpreted by the friends, though- try funny stuff and more blackened eyes and scratches will follow. There's an annoying tale of the guy who looks beyond the looks.I believe it to be a myth. This is an oath to take the lard off, but trust me- with it goes my optimism that the male species is actually not interested in skin-deep matter. I wouldn't look at them too, but a large number of my 'interests' have been on the unflattering side of the mirror. About it being a tale- if it isn't, well, show me a person who's ready to give this a chance. And do not expect me to be happy- I'll have my usual set of (cynical) questions- Does he know me? Have you told him what's happening? Is he here to prove a point? So you get me a guy who likes me and what? I'm by default supposed to like him, like it's my only chance?

I do not want to be attention seeking, I am extensively sick of pretenses, and I agree that with the lard on me you hardly wait to see my pretty side (if at all I decide to don one), but somehow EVERYONE around me is convinced that I'll find love and all that drama- my question is, where? When? Am I supposed to go looking for it? What are the chances this unknown faceless personality could be looking out for me? I mean, quite an ego boost I'll get there. 

I did try not making it matter- another side of me is extensively happy with the current version of 'me'. It hardly matters on most days about what someone says or doesn't. I'm not a pro at following advice and definitely not a pro at getting things done, but I never complain. 

Today is my day of complaining though. Too bad. My blog, my version.

I know, I'm getting convinced by the second that these are reason enough. To repulse anyone. I would be. I want to hear it from you.
The sorry part is, if I do turn completely cynical- I'll miss the fairy-tale side of me, my happily-ever-after ideas and the entire point that sometimes makes me the way I am. I have identified myself as a little less normal than you are and quite a bit on the troubled side, but seriously- for heaven's sake- Mulan was a cross-dresser, Ariel swapped a mermaid's tail for a date and Belle was a masochist.
And they say I have problems!
Point being, where's the honesty gone? Or were the fairy-tales just tales?


But tell me. Please.
I need to know the bad things about me. The terrible ones. The annoying ones. The strictly weird ones. The unspeakable ones. INBOX me if you have to- but for a day or two (preferably not more than that, I have esteem issues if you drag it) please, drag me (virtually) on dry ground for who I've turned out to be.
So long as it's on paper. Kindly rip me apart (on paper/webpage, again) because I'm very thoroughly SICK of being told of what a perfect person I am (I believe it very sincerely most of the time) because at the end of the day, I don't get the feedback I want.
I may not know what that is, but I know I'm not getting it.