My Writings


How do I forgive myself – there is a piece of my past, ugly and repulsive, that disturbs me most of all, and it is my desire to have what I have not earned, now, to be someone who I have not grown enough to be, yet. To cover myself in undeserved honor. All else I have forgiven.

Give me what I want, I said, why do you not see me the way that I see myself? How did I fail to convince you that I am what I believe to be? Is my glow pale, are my words weak? My world was built on shifting sands, and it was, inexplicably, inevitably, consumed by them. I clung to all that is familiar, all that I believed to be unchanging – gold will save me, friends will protect me against time, the lie of my outer shell will convince my enemy to look away. But it was all false, all transient.

I sat down beside the path of life, and I hit my head, then held it in despair. A treacherous voice hissed in my head – those are lessons that you should have learned a long, long time ago. But, I am perfect. I need not learn. I am omniscient. Others – I do not see them learning. I do not see You placing your demands on them, I do not see you dragging them through the mud, like me.

I believed that my wings will carry me far, far above the world of Man. Instead, I am bound here, caged with these lower souls, ground to dust by triviality. No way out. It must only be, then, that I am one of those who I despise. I must walk the path, and all of it.

But I wished to be born and die in an instant, conquering the summit in a single step. I wished to be spared the arduous walking, and the falling, the rising up again. To instantly close my eyes after first opening them, to never have to be blinded by painful truths, but the journey needs to be seen in its entirety.

How else, then, will my tale be complete?

Thus I forgave myself, standing watchful near the grave of my hubris.

Lest it rises again.


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