The watchtower.

When you understand how somebody works, you have complete control of them. You know what will make them flinch, ache, moan, lie, deny, smile, be comforted, lust, and yearn. You have access to every single one of their thoughts, and little do they know. There you sit, comforting them over something you know they made up. They want your sympathy, or some kind of attention from someone. You nod your head and listen, offer advice and a reassuring hug, even though you know they're full of shit. Why fuck up the power you have by admitting to your little game? You say things like 'it's okay', 'it'll all work out', 'hold on, I have faith in you' and 'things will get better, they have to', but you manipulate these cliche phrases so it doesn't seem like you're reciting from a book. You're gathering more information. They can't look you in the eye, and you already know they are telling tales. But you don't say 'you're full of shit, you're upset over the fact you're still single and unwanted, so you tell me this story because you think I don't know who you are. You think telling me about your fictional boyfriend and his fictional fists will make me want to console you and make you feel better, you think it'll make me feel sorry for you and spend more time with you. You saw the way MY girlfriend treats me, and you envy all the attention I get, and how everyone else seems to be happier than you, so you decide to fool us all, and you got them, yeah, those cunts are pretty fucking fooled. Oh, poor you. Not me, I'll just pretend to be your friend 'til I get what I want from you, then you're on your own, bitch'. No, you don't say it, but that's what you're thinking while you're rubbing her back and telling her she's still got you. If only they knew just how deep you've travelled into their dark little minds. If only they knew you knew just how fucked up they really were, that they are fucking fake. Of course, so are you, but at least you're intelligent enough. We all use people, conciously or not, but it's people like us, little observer, that know how to get exactly what we want from everyone, simply by figuring them out. You can't go wrong. Of course, you shouldn't trust anything I've just said, little observer, because I'm just like you. What I say and what I think are completely different things. You already know this though. I know you do, because I know you. Everytime you look at someone, you're looking through, into their mind. Aren't you fucking clever, fucking fantastic. You will never get a look at me, little observer, so don't bother, I have no use for you. You're too observant, I couldn't possibly manipulate, use and abuse you. My deceit will go to waste. But then, why would I tell you anything?