Field of Life

I am so selfish. Aren't we all? We let all the things we do be influenced by a hidden motive for ourselves. We say we care for someone, then turn and talk behind the person's back. We cry for sympathy, while quietly stealing all that the sympathetic holds dear, leaving them dashed on the ground, wondering what happened. It is a vicious cycle. Through every person and country, we travel through self-loathing, falling, picking ourselves up, then throwing ourselves at the ground even harder, grasping for things we can't have. We run through the field of life, not noticing all the lives we crush with each step. Take care. Beneath the seeming single sea of grass are tiny individual flowers of people's lives, affected by your every whim. As the flowmetal-faced Erasmus would doubtless have said, "Humans. How stupid."