I wave past her dismal attempts at politeness, niceness and manners. All i see now is the cupidity. Presented with that exterior even the kindest of persons might be stirred to anger. It is true we inherit the loves and hates of our parents just as they share in our joy and sorrow. My anger I realize is in part from them; they who shall unnamed. I can see her and myself. She is so child-like. Why is it so? Is it that when we are youthful and full of vitality like butter, golden and so alluring that we forget how fragile we have always been and will continue to be. Is that what I really despise or is it because she is so fucking annoying? And then I see it; the golden afternoon truth that she lacks only the means to reach my head through words but our hearts are strong and much passess therein which we may choose to ignore only at our peril.
I am of the opinion that we are comprised of more than one self and that if we are not careful then one day the self that dwells closest to the surface innuring us to life will be struck down as tyrants all over are, and then justice shall roll down like water and righteousness like an everlasting stream. It is to you, no, I that I speak too.
I am of the opinion that we are comprised of more than one self and that if we are not careful then one day the self that dwells closest to the surface innuring us to life will be struck down as tyrants all over are, and then justice shall roll down like water and righteousness like an everlasting stream. It is to you, no, I that I speak too.