Boxes

One day, in order to make sense of this world, I had to make compromises with the core of my being. After all, my drive for existence was in question. I'd explain to myself what should not have been... the reality. 

I couldn't undo what had materialised. As I attempted to assuage the bad, I eventually succeeded. But, only at the expense of losing the meaning of good. In the end, nothing was left. No good, no bad. When it came to morality, I was rendered a computer for all that mattered. 

Then again, maybe the attribution is incorrect and this is truly who I always was. Or, maybe the attribution lies with the world at large. I'm not sure.

I've met some people like myself. They were few and far, but quite different in their appeal. They too used attribution to feel nice about themselves. It was easy for me to fall for them. Then, how fucked up would it be? People with fundamental flaws in their being, in their morality, trying to help themselves with other flawed people. Surely, flawed people are ruthless to everyone including each other. 

Another problem with flawed people is that they understand others. Therefore, they find it difficult to get angry at people. They understand the subjectivity of morality and hence other's actions of self-interest; that is, at the expense of accepted morality of the society.

There's no escape for flawed people. We live in a society of boxes. Boxes of good and bad. Boxes of God and Satan. It's demanded of us that we put things in these boxes even if we don't know how.