How easy it is for us to bemoan our own hardships, the hurts and betrayals that have been done onto us,
what about the terror we enact on others?
To live without fault is near impossible, if not entirely so.
Each of us comes away from this life scathed and scathing.
It is effortless to float through time and space feeling sorry for yourself, feeling the pain of what the world has enacted on you.
Yet how often do we stop and recall the hurt we’ve doled out?
I find myself sitting and weeping over the ways I’ve been mistreated,
still what about the hearts I’ve broken, in pursuit of my own self interest,
or in boredom,
or in malice.
Should we not stop to consider how we are the villain in someone else’s story?
Would this not humanize us all a bit more.
pretty words for wicked girls 