I cannot abide fake people. Now, when I say “fake people,” I don’t mean fictional characters, figments of my imagination, mannequins, homunculi, shapeshifting aliens, or any other way in which it can be taken as a person who is not really a person. No, when I talk about “fake people” I am referring to a specific type of person that has become increasingly prevalent in our society; the sycophant. I consider sycophants to be as low and worthy of disdain as hypocrites (I wrote a poem about hypocrisy, years ago; if I find it, I’ll post it to make my feelings on the subject clear). There is a plague (metaphorical, not literal, unless you’re using the term “literal” hyperbolically, in which case stop it because you’re killing English) of sycophancy spreading throughout this world, and it is incredibly disappointing.

Let me assure you of one thing: if I’m your friend, it’s because I like you, not because you can do something for me. I’m not your friend because of any social status boost I get by being your friend. I’m not your friend because I know I’ll need something from you now or in the future. I’m not your friend because you’re the person that everyone wants to be friends with. I’m your friend because I think you’re cool, and I want to be friends. I’m not going to reject your friendship simply because you have nothing to offer me beyond your friendship.

Then again, I’m not a self-centered asshole (I don’t think).

[future edit: I was almost certainly being passive-aggressive about someone during a time in my life when I didn’t use a lot of my friendships or support systems effectively.]