Judgement

Where do you come from? What are your qualifications to stand there and judge me... judge -us-? We who are tainted by the mishaps of our decisions? We who are imperfect, lower, mongrels, and inadequates? Who gave you birth, right, and power to see us lower than what we could be? When did you gain that knowledge, that experience, that right to tell me what I could be, where it could, how I can be, why did she, and how it all came to pass?

What worth gave you the strength to carry that hammer and strike the ground and claim us unworthy and shower me with your 'rage' when you come from perfection. When the horse you sit allows you to breath the air of a perfect and sheltered atmosphere?

I can ask and demand that you stand where I am. I can tell you and try to show you what tragedy, what imperfections, and what pain really is, but you have lived a life of a perfect world where your means of pain barely fits within the definition of my own.

I don't claim to be better because I lived my life in shambles, emptiness, and despair. In fact I hold a bit of jealousy because you lived a life that's superior. But you have hounded me... us because we failed more than once. Because we slipped, we claimed our avarice, because at time we just lost ourselves in our own imperfections.... because we lost ourselves in our pursuit of happiness... you say we are capable of hurting people with our greed.... with our flaws... have you looked in the mirror lately? Have you truly sat there and tried to see things from our stand point? My standpoint?

You claim your grounds. You say your existence meant good things. You stay despite at the behest of the broken, the damned... you gloat, you smile, you serenade me with the memory of my failures and what I will never be in this lifetime. You remind me of what I'll never have and not once have you tried to even remind yourself that you are human... a human far blessed but still capable of causing despair.

It is not my job to judge you, but it is my job to claim my grounds that I have lost. It is my right to tell you that you do not know my life, my place, my world, and the people that are in the same world as me. We are broken, lost, and at times foolish. We make mistakes, we are incompetent at times, and there are times when we will regret our actions. Some of us move on, some push it away, and there is me who will live in that regret everyday.... But I know my mishaps. I know my faults... and I live to admit them until the day I die.

Perhaps I am truly lost. Truly wrong. Truly inadequate.... And perhaps you have your right to smirk until the last of the stones that once held bridges sinks within the weight of my mishap.

Know this, however. Your second life will resemble this lifetime of mine. You will know what starving means. You will know what betrayal means. You will find out what losing someone truly means. You will know lies like no other. You will shed tears that will cause your mind asunder. You will feel emotions that are so heavy that it will encumber your chest to the point where you cannot breathe. And you will walk the same unforgiving ground I am walking in.... and we will see if your heroic judgement will have a place after all.