The Lies We Exist Within

Footsteps echo as they travel right into my ears. Click clack, click clack. Not the steps of others, my steps. Mine. The steps of a smart person, the steps of an upright person. The steps of a reasonable person, the steps of one who stands and presides over others.
I looked at other people doing stupid things and I thought to myself, such an idiot, or pointless. I stood as a judge, picking apart the people who fell because they were too weak. The world is for the strong afterward, I thought; you have no right to be alive and be so weak. Eventually, though, I learned. I saw my indiscretions. Different from those of the "weak," but then, how am I any different? They steal to survive; I think of legal ways to steal from others. It is permissible by the law, so, why not? We the elites point fingers. But we have dark dark indiscretions that we could never allow for even a bit of daylight to illuminate. My shame, my disgrace, my indulgences; though different from those of the robbers and the liars and the corrupt and the addicts, my shame was still great indeed. Great, but tucked away. Away from the vision of others. It hit me. We are all shameful women; we are all shameful men. Those who are "strong," and those who are "weak." We all are just still dirty people, only that we are dirty in varying degrees and we have our dirtiness covered in the dark. Safe away, so no one can see. In fact, we are so scared that given a chance, we would kill to save ourselves from the shame. It hit like an illumination from a million-volt headlamp. The realization of a naive life. The naive life that I paraded with such great pride. And like a sinner, I turned away from my pride. I calmed my desire to judge, realizing that we were all stained. I became understanding. We are all just doing what we can do to survive. What we know to do, is what we do. The thieves, the liars, the wicked, the mean, the deceivers, the corrupt, and the weak. Everyone is just doing what they can do to survive. If someone acts extremely poorly, understand that it is where they are at and do not let it bother you. Treat people properly regardless of who they are and how they are. This became my way of life, my culture, until one morning, I realized, people aren't just doing the best they can. Some people are but some are not. They are people who are just lazy and nasty and wicked and merciless and unreasonable because they want to be. Not because they cannot do better or because they do not know to do better, but because they want to be; because it is comfortable, and they'd rather be comfortable than make an effort; they'd rather be wicked than be kind. They like it that way.