When I talk, do you listen? Or does it disappear in the crowd of your own thoughts, your own wants and desires that you press on everyone else? When I talk, does any of it get through to you, through that pushy crowd and into some actual space where I can be heard?
No. I don't think so. You, you, you. That is what runs your world. If it doesn't concern you, it's not worth the effort.
And, going off on a tangent here, ever think that maybe I don't have a solid, logical, makes-sense-to-everyone reason why I do the things I do? Why I will burst into a run from a calm walk, or will ask a question that seemed to have come out of nowhere, or will stare at the leaves and count their colors. Do I need such a reason, one of those reasons that will appease you? "Just because I wanted to," doesn't seem to be one of those reasons on the list in your head.
Can't I just be, and not be asked endless, cynical, obtrusive questions? Can't my reasons be left alone and not be picked apart and meshed into something that doesn't even vaguely resemble what it once was?
So hush. Listen to me. Let me breathe. Let me do what I want without having to answer to you. Then maybe we can avoid these "unfair fights" that always seem to be blamed on me, and this "moody attitude" I get whenever I talk to you and you fill it up with barely-concealed criticisms.
If not, bearing lychee-flavored gifts will soon not redeem you in my eyes.