They say it is selfish. Cowardly, the easy option. An act of revenge. What wicked perversion of reality is this? People who have never been close, never stared it in the eye. Surely taking this viewpoint, merely to absolve ones-self, is the truly self-centred situation, the belief that your own being is at once more and less important than any other.
To be. To be here. To be here, not.
Meanwhile the truly easy option, perhaps, is to take that step. Convince yourself, with the aid of literature and song, that it is a noble, difficult thing to do, to move on, to start again. This is as selfish as it gets. No matter who or what is damaged around you, your ‘moving on’ is more important. Leaving what behind? Well, do not look back, only to sigh at how hard a thing it was for you to create that destruction, how hard it is on you. Yet you do not suffer, you continue, leave the wreckage behind for others. You remain.
So who cares the least? The one who stays, or the one who goes. To be, not, now that is an act of bravery. To be, elsewhere, that is the act of the spineless. To do that, yet berate those who take the difficult step into darkness; what manner of arrogance can that take? It is beyond me.
It is beyond me.
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