Glow
Punmaker Extrordinare
Consider the person, and like all people, this person is flawed. This is a person who has lied about what they've done so they can appear be the person they want to be, rather the person they actually are. A person who can barely contain their anger at being asked to do the simplest thing for another person. A person who acts like they care so much, to compensate for the fact that they actually don't care at all. A person who has so many wrongs to their name that even the rights are tainted.
And when this person goes to examine the black, putrid, oozing mass of flesh that is their heart, and gazes up at the looming golden tower that is their ego, it is then that they start to wonder why they were set on this planet in the first place. Why they were allowed to eat, sleep, breath, talk, and make all the foolish decisions that brought them to where they are now. But they never share these thoughts with anyone else because that would make them seem like a self pitying idiot. Never mind the fact that they'd be revealing what kind of person they really are underneath all the pretense.
And yet, these thoughts keep nagging at them. In the morning, at work, in the evening, and before bed. Even when they're trying not to think about them, the thoughts are still there; nibbling away at the back of the mind like ants on a dropped piece of food, until they can't stand it anymore. They lay in their bed and stare at the ceiling; trying to remember what made them get up the morning before. They know what the answer to their problem is. They know what they need to do. And yet they have not done it. Not because they hate what they are.
It is because they love it.
And when this person goes to examine the black, putrid, oozing mass of flesh that is their heart, and gazes up at the looming golden tower that is their ego, it is then that they start to wonder why they were set on this planet in the first place. Why they were allowed to eat, sleep, breath, talk, and make all the foolish decisions that brought them to where they are now. But they never share these thoughts with anyone else because that would make them seem like a self pitying idiot. Never mind the fact that they'd be revealing what kind of person they really are underneath all the pretense.
And yet, these thoughts keep nagging at them. In the morning, at work, in the evening, and before bed. Even when they're trying not to think about them, the thoughts are still there; nibbling away at the back of the mind like ants on a dropped piece of food, until they can't stand it anymore. They lay in their bed and stare at the ceiling; trying to remember what made them get up the morning before. They know what the answer to their problem is. They know what they need to do. And yet they have not done it. Not because they hate what they are.
It is because they love it.