The two faced person I see before me is nothing more than a hollow shell wishing to exist, and I do not see it. I will not see it. To believe there is something there is to gaze upon it, to remain blind is to protect it, and to hate it is to get closure from the disgusting shell in front of my eyes.
I cannot stand the sight of your pathetic existence; wallowing in disdain created by none other than yourself. You are a coward, hiding in stain ridden carpets with fecal matter and tears, wishing to be reached while hiding, and you my dear, you play the part very well.
You see, you shallow being, you personify three unique identities: you are helpless and need a savior, you can’t do more than the weak, and you can achieve anything. Disgusting.
Hiding in your hole you want the world to pity you and trust me foul creature, they do. However, not for the reasons your crafty mind can conceive. You want to prove to the world you can as you reach for your dreams on your knees in the hole, knowing full well that standing can help you achieve them and you,
You project your legs are broken, but you are trying? You believe it, you live it, you taste it as you break your legs for the illusion; if they can pity you for not reaching, maybe they won’t know you failed… you think.
Why do you not stand, empty rotting shell?
For if you were to try, than what other excuse could you have for all the reasons you’ve failed?