If The Folks Will Have Me, Then They’ll Have Me

But they won’t.

I live in a world of my own making, and always have. I have joined and tried and bent myself to the will of little men in order to get along, but I can’t do it anymore. I say nothing and nod but if you asked me a question, direct, I’d have to answer it truthfully — brutally, maybe; but you never ask me anything. You tell me things, and one in a million of them are of interest to me, but not the kind of interest I bet you’re looking for.

Everyone thinks they’re better than everyone else, and the worse a person is, the higher the regard they have for their own crabby worldview. I don’t have an opinion of myself any longer. I’m just a mirror I hold up to the world, and the world puts me in a closet rather than look upon itself.

But a mirror’s power doesn’t wane because you don’t look at it.