Many stare at you with lapidary pupils when you’re able to provide more than a hug or kiss on the cheek. They adore you while fascinated by your every move. Sooner or later, you become an example of success in the crying eyes of a dream-chaser.
But, what happens when you are muddied by a pile of debris soaking wet from puddles of tears you’ve fallen into? What happens when the corners of your picture capturing sunshine are burnt to ash no one would ever want to put inside of a jar?
You’re humanity is stripped away along with the right to your emotions, no longer are you an acceptable member of society, and! You’re labeled a failure even if it took failure to reach any sort of success in the first place…
What shall that person do? Where shall that person lay their head at night without the worry of anyone reminding them of their past follies? Are you deemed a monster until the day your waning spirit undergoes perdition?…
Or, better yet! Why even care for questions rhetorical in nature as I roar in laughter…
m3l0dicverse 
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