Gorgias

Of course I can’t let them win, I can’t, I just simply can’t, it would be too much. It would be too much for me. They don’t deserve it. They’re wrong. The battle is between me and myself, the others are extras in my story. They can’t win. I will not let them. I will not lose. What they know or feel is insubstantial. It’s worthless to anyone. It means nothing. Why they even try, I don’t know. I can’t allow them to be better, because it would mean I am not enough. I don’t know if I’ll ever be, but they will not be the ones to tell me. I don’t just hate them, I also fear myself and hate myself and mistrust myself. They are extras. They amplify my failure to be myself.

They are the big evil, and it doesn’t matter if that’s a self-fabricated fiction or an absolute truth. Pain is pain and fear is fear. I distrust their very presence, for it means exposure of what I am made of as well. I am like them, but I don’t want to be like them. They are what I despise, and I am made of the same things, the same basics, the same culture. They frighten me, because they show me what I could have been.