Politeness Is Not an Invitation for Abuse
You threw me into an emergency state, but you can't catch me with your dozens of alarming emails or your harassment. Since you are so fond of assuming every line is a green line for your dirty games, go ahead - have your last dish with your human-skin mask on, until the holy water burns it off.
Photo by Steven Thompson on Unsplash
This is it - the last dish. I'm done.
You came into my space to judge and split hairs as if you were some grand authority, but this wasn't a contest and you aren't the judge. You are one hell of a rude guest who insulted the meal I made and served with care.
Why the harsh words? Why the need to compare two different cultures just to put me down? Now that I've stood my ground with facts, you sulked through the meal as if the food is beneath you.
Do you think I would ever stoop to that level? Throughout the years, you've consistently fed me garbage and scraps - literally and figuratively - yet you have the audacity to act insulted here.
My courtesy wasn't a green line for you to trample on. I don't deserve this nastiness.
After the dozens of stunts you've pulled and that alarming email meant to shut me up, I see you for who you are. You're so fond of playing saint that I know you will never attack me directly because you can't catch me without the world seeing your real face. So instead, you targeted my precious ones.
Then there are the maleficent objects you planted in our space - one tossed out, one burned, but almost always something new appearing.
Even my cats were not spared from your aspersions and malice; one was at the edge of death until that despair and distraction sent me to the emergency ward.
Is that your version of killing two birds with one stone? You are the most meticulous menace I have ever known.
©Britt H.
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