“Never assume that the person you are dealing with is weaker or less
important than you are. Some people are slow to take offense, which may
make you misjudge the thickness of their skin, and fail to worry about
insulting them. But should you offend their honor and their pride, they
will overwhelm you with a violence that seems sudden and extreme given
their slowness to anger." - Robert Greene, 48 Laws of Power
"What gets me is the laughter. Laughing, mocking, putting me to shame. Be careful to never shame others, there is someone out there just like you, like me, waiting in the shadows for the final stroke, the lash that brings to light the hidden madness. Be careful young soul that you do not mock the snake."
I coil around these young, nurturing
their venomous beginnings. Ever aware, hyper-vigilant, to protect and
bring to maturation these slithering things. They've become my
children. In them I invest my time and energy, daily laboring,
thinking about their growth and how they will manifest in this humbled time. My nest, being formed in the moist and dark, is where they
grow, and where the stench festers inciting more depravity from the
natural courses that flow so easily. The rubbish of shame and hate
piled on my fertile ground, gives rise to a perfect incubator for my
brood. Throw another log on you spoiled soul, forget not that under
your insults, warmth and protection brought about by numb insulation,
cords piled high, will let my life swarm. Not one bite will injure
you, but many, not from one direction, but from several. You
gave me advantage by leaving the dark crevices where I crawl and my thirst for
poisoned blood grows. I can prosper in obscurity, in the loneliness you
force on me with your betrayals and mocking laughter. Night has come,
I find myself drawn from the pile. You forget that life grows dark
even in your world and there is where I prosper, having grown accustomed to the dimness in your dungeon. Feel your skin crawl as sounds of my approach
come near. I taste your fear with my carefully timed flicks of
tongue. I feel your vibrations, you can't run. Where will you go?
Naturally you will find a dark place, a hole to run to. There I will
catch you, and the dull red of your hatred of my life will flow
thickly into my long furnace. Here the heat will consume you, and I
will crawl, satiated with revenge, leaving the bones and fur of your
carcass as testimony to the lethality of leaving your shamed captives
alive.

Awesome! Love it!!!
ReplyDeleteLittle Fox