Deadma

So okay, I have a beef with self-indulgent, self-absorbed, egocentric people. People who think it's all about them. That they have the right to spread their dourness like a virus and expect the rest of us to be in a bad mood just because they are miserable.

Unfortunately, my universe seems to be peopled by these types. "Hardened" me-myself-and-I types who think the world owes them a favor. Brats who are increasingly becoming generic in their wanting to be "different." Loudmouths who mistake their tiresome prattle for viable opinions.

But then again, if there is one powerful non-Webster word that I absolutely like, it's "deadma." Supposedly a shortened version of "dead malice" or the literal "patay-malisya," it runs the range of keeping a straight, unreadable face, of displaying not even a hint of reaction and of completely ignoring things and people.

"Deadma" makes the whiners think that their whining is lost on me, the ranters look for others apparently interested in their rantings. It makes the baiters and the fishers cast their hooks elsewhere.

And I am left to blog in peace. Happiness!