[private to self // hard to hack]

May 28, 2009 17:50

I should care, but I don't. It's one more dead person.

Most of these people don't even know him. They don't know if he was good, or bad, selfless or evil. Whether or not he is better off dead. Nothing about him. They're not sad he died. They can't miss him. They're sad their world got a little less secure. Sad things are a little harder for them. They're so wrapped up in their own narcissism. Me, me, me...I feel.

I'm like that too. Hypocritical, horrible. At least I have no illusions about it. When I want to be selfish I know it.

Where is the sadness for everyone else who died needlessly that day? Nowhere, because they weren't important. They don't know the contents of those hearts either. The beggar dead in the ditch, the whore murdered in her bed.

No wonder I'm so cold. When you try to hold all lives equal...what else is left?

But even in that much, I fail. My own, I always place higher.

It doesn't matter in the end though. No matter what I feel, I'll put on a good face for it. I'll look as sad and sorry as everyone else.
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