Fatuus

A word of advice. It's probably not the best idea to [wrongly] condemn a person for something others often [wrongly] condemn you of.

Proditio

The moment someone compares you to someone else; someone else who they perceive to be a better person, is a moment you will never forget. You wear the memory of the feeling on your skin like grime you can’t wash clean. It doesn’t matter the reason, justified or not. It stays. You stand there, like you were just smacked on the head and you’re waiting to lose conciseness. It takes the breath right from your lungs. Just because someone gives the outward appearance that they are a better person than you, does it then in turn make you a bad person? Or less of a person? Just because you use curse words more than they do? Just because you have more dimensions to your voice. Just because you have less friends than they do? You stand there, struggling to remember what exactly it was that your parents told you; was it quality over quantity? What is this sudden self doubt that is bubbling through your insides? Images flash through your mind; like, this has happened before. Close your eyes against the suddenness of it. A sinking feeling. You are reminded of how this scene will play out and you already know the ending song. You’re gasping through this living nightmare a second time. Time stands still and you are naked and broken in the midst of a memory reborn. It’s horrible and you already know it. You also know there is nothing you can do. The damage is done. It’s over. So there is nothing left to do but leave the toxicity where it stands and hope it hasn’t permeated your body through and through. Maybe you left in time this time. Maybe… The damage is already done.

Ultio

Fact: The best way to exact your revenge on someone is simply this. Manipulate a situation to your favor. For instance, egg this person on with harmless comments. By harmless I mean things that you know get under this person’s skin, but to casual on lookers, are mere little words. Next, wait for them to lose it, or to overreact. Then, once this person tries to confront you about this, deny the whole thing, after all, you have witnesses that saw you being nothing but outwardly polite.

No one is perfect. I don’t care how perfect someone seems, deep down, they’ve got secrets, lies. Just like the rest of us. I sometimes think these people are worse. They walk around with their noses in the air, pretending not to care or to notice, but you tell me who the real liar is: someone who allows others to believe they are perfect, or people who walk around wearing their Scarlet Letters (whatever letter it may be!). I’d rather be friends with a bitch than a fraud because at least I know the bitch is going to stab me and this way I can be ready for it. Unlike the fraud who lures you into a false lull of a safety net and then slowly, when you least expect it, inserts that knife, right in between your ribs; while you’re sleeping. So they can silently slip away while you bleed out in bed.