I didn’t write this, but when I saw it, it hit home. In watching certain people bathe in their own hate, revel in it, define themselves by it, allow themselves to be completely consumed by it, I find myself feeling sorry for them.
How hollow and empty is your heart when you must breathe negativity, drama, bitchiness?
“Do you really have to have such an ugly soul?” I used to think the answer to this was no. But now I am not so sure. I see people cling to nastiness, feed on their own hostility and belligerence, and whip up unrest when things get too calm. They have nothing else to stand on or to live by. Their soul is desiccated from years of festering in negativity.
I only wish the kids were not exposed to it. It’s not fair to them. They didn’t ask to be in the middle of someone else’s emotional latrine. They deserve better, as I have said over and over.
Sometimes, the only purpose a person can serve is as an example of what not to do. I have observed and learned, and I know that nothing I can say, offer, or do will change anything for people like this. They are in love with their own turpitude, cling rapturously to their hate, spit malice from their long-dead heart.
I don’t want to be like that. I won’t be like that.
So no, I don’t hate them. I pity them. I pray for them. And I watch them, and I learn from them, and I make sure to never, ever be like them.
Sweat & Sparkle 