Why Must We Limit Ourselves by Funny Little Things Like a Title

My heart is torn apart by the sights, the smells, the cries and the bitter charades of broken lives.

We mask ourselves in cloaks of convenient lies. Our hearts never stray, only just far enough away, so that we can never feel what is true. Following fancy over flight and under our souls twilight we bathe in this refuse.

How horrible, how dreadful, how terrifying it all is in its grand immensity. A world we view as broad strokes, hazy images so we will never inconvenient ourselves with the novel notion of individual humanity. Prejudice held group think is much easier to dismiss, if we bothered to look past our own arrogant snobbery we might begin to see the blood splattered walls and refuse littered streets; the open sewage of souls and lives ripped open and preyed upon by demons.

So much easier to be our own little clockwork pets with little knobs and gears. Mechanical in nature so that when we break we can be replaced at a penny rate.

If we do not quickly drown ourselves in our sorrows we are just as quick to drown ourselves in any indulgence which may act as a placebo, if not just a quick way to avoid our own mirrors.

Who enjoys looking at themselves? We paint a pretty picture so that when we look in the mirror we do not have to see the world reflecting behind us. The mass carnage reminiscent of the lower levels of Hell doth not provide a comfort to our downheartedness, truth merely an inconvenient construct formed by the close minded and self righteous. Any aspect of lie for which we fight for and die for on a daily basis is alright, just as long as we do not forget to wrap the world around my shoulders. My life, my death, my righteous, my path, my pain, my pride and my pillar of salt.