pity.
this feeling of pity feels like grease inside your skull.
it clings like the remnants of a spider web after you've walked through it, invisible and unsettling.
it makes you feel as if you're in a crowded, dirty highway rest stop bathroom and have to Go Number Two.
it is the crazy bum, talking to himself and stinking up your space on the subway, making your skin crawl with uncertainty and revulsion.
it is the smile of a used car salesman as he crushes out his cheap smoke under the heel of his scuffed, ten year-old loafer as he extends a chubby, gold-beringed and bracleted hand in your direction.
it is a whif of the back alley and its resident dumpster as you dine on the patio of a swank restaurant, all done up in your sunday-best even though no one believes in sundays anymore.
pity is the sticky feeling under your shoes in an overused and undercleaned movie theater.
it is the antiseptic scent of a funeral home, underlaid with death and grief and guilt.
it is that helpless, hopeless, end-of-the-world feeling as you trudge to bed after sitting in front of CNN for hours on end.
compassion, empathy, love---noble.
pity---a base emotion on par with greed and spite and pettiness. it is demeaning and dehumanizing and base.
as ayn rand once said, i feel cheated to live in a world where feeling pity is considered a virtue.
-pb
music: fluke
book: the redemption of althalus, david and leigh eddings
this feeling of pity feels like grease inside your skull.
it clings like the remnants of a spider web after you've walked through it, invisible and unsettling.
it makes you feel as if you're in a crowded, dirty highway rest stop bathroom and have to Go Number Two.
it is the crazy bum, talking to himself and stinking up your space on the subway, making your skin crawl with uncertainty and revulsion.
it is the smile of a used car salesman as he crushes out his cheap smoke under the heel of his scuffed, ten year-old loafer as he extends a chubby, gold-beringed and bracleted hand in your direction.
it is a whif of the back alley and its resident dumpster as you dine on the patio of a swank restaurant, all done up in your sunday-best even though no one believes in sundays anymore.
pity is the sticky feeling under your shoes in an overused and undercleaned movie theater.
it is the antiseptic scent of a funeral home, underlaid with death and grief and guilt.
it is that helpless, hopeless, end-of-the-world feeling as you trudge to bed after sitting in front of CNN for hours on end.
compassion, empathy, love---noble.
pity---a base emotion on par with greed and spite and pettiness. it is demeaning and dehumanizing and base.
as ayn rand once said, i feel cheated to live in a world where feeling pity is considered a virtue.
-pb
music: fluke
book: the redemption of althalus, david and leigh eddings
VIEW 16 of 16 COMMENTS
causus:
Who is pitying who? Did I spell that right? 
puresauciness:
That was very well put