why is bad .... sexy?

"Whats the fun in playing it safe?
I think I rather mess-behave..." Bitter:sweet - Dirty Laundry.

I am known to be moody, sarcastic, loud, sharp toned, sometimes sensitive, cute and maybe a poser sometimes...

But these days I am looking at the dark side, and I started thinking, what's so appealing about the dark side?

Even in movies, the bad man was the good girls instant orgasm, the bad girl was the seductive witch and all men wanted her.

Yes in some stories the good people were the beautiful, but rarely taking the "Sexy" role...

Back to our topic, I started to look bad, in a good way of course, with a jet black hair to match my shoes and v-neck shirt, denim jeans, fake police sun glasses - no one could tell they were fake -, dirty beard, and marched to my university.

Every one was looking; every one told me I looked hot, seductive, mysterious...

One thing was missing though, why wasn't I hot, seductive and mysterious when I wore a white t-shirt, with regular jeans and nice Nike's?

looking and being bad is sexy to allot of people, but I didn't feel like its me, I mean that look might be fun for a few days, but then, I would like to be me, the usual fun loving, crazy, sweet, sensitive guy..
I know I am boosting my levels up, too cocky perhaps, but why fake my looks to make people like me?

Why is "bad" so sexy, I just want to know!
I couldn't help but wonder...
Was it because we are into the rough edges of a bad person?
Was it because bad people get to do what ever they wanted without any one telling them not to?
Or was it because we are afraid of them? The bad people and the things we want to do!
Why is bad... sexy?

scraps...

Its not my country…
its not how I pictured it…
a 4x4 room, with a small bathroom, insects took this place, invested in it, and called it home…
its bellow ground zero, bellow streets level, so no fresh air at all and even though I keep on cleaning it, it doesn’t seem to get clean…
there is no one like me here, and no one who likes me here, no one who knows how funny, smart, educated and well brought up I am, or even how caring sensitive and considerate…
I'm trapped in this city of silence, where boredom is a best friend, I no longer write, I think I forgot how to writ, I don’t really know, I am really filled with so much hatred that my mind pauses when ever I grab my pen, it just doesn’t talk, the pen I mean, it used to move by itself…
I started new friendships, and started having problems, with those new friendships I mean, I couldn’t help but wonder…
Why do we curse the state of being lonely, if we get trouble from being social?
Why do we face numerous accusations of being "yellow", mean and malignant when we are in fact careful and afraid?

I couldn’t help but wonder, why does reality always slaps us in the face when we create expectations?

Also, I would like to know…
Or wait, now I know..
Its not the people that have something wrong with them…
Its me!