And when you finally look at me, do you see the purpose. Do you sense my pride?
The pride of being absurd. The pride of being vile. Of being nothing. Of being me.
How sick of me you must be by now while you're standing outside of what your pride will allow always reaching into yourself to find a way to understand me.
When Iam here, so sure that no one else can withstand me.
Between being a cruel, unkind, stone hearted, unempatheric and pathetic excuse for life and being a human with too much compassion I lie, breathing in that pride. And my word for it, I've seen it all.
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