A Realm of Self Pity

Why am I so weak.

Have I reached my limit? No, that’s not it. I am still going.

My self pity makes me ashamed to look in the mirror, I look at myself and see a selfish child who never learnt to let go, a selfish child who never learnt to accept you can never come out on top all of the time; there are always winners and losers.

I am not a exceptional entity, I am a mortal and so I bleed, I hurt, my resolve wavers under temptation, my strength fades from constant battle and my pride means nothing.

I have lost my self respect.

No matter the amount of books I read, no matter how much I learn, I still can’t answer that one question in my head. Why was I not good enough?

I am sure many of the woman I have been with haste asked this of themselves after I have played my games and realised they were not enough for me, they were not on my level. Ahh, as I write that it angers me, I am not above anyone, nor am I below another.

The confusion and contradiction in my head would break many, yet others suffer far worse. My life is good, I have no question of that so why am I not happy? why do I want more, always more.

I am no different from those I criticise, except perhaps for a profound awareness of my own deluded grandeur. I am scum with a conscience.