A selective empathetic is a more sinister evil than the outright unempathetic. The unempathetic is quite small in numbers, and are under more scrutiny. The selective empathetic is one of reflective desire, picking and choosing those to be glad for and wishing to prosper based off of desired personal gain, gain that involves putting others down in the process. This level of empathy is pure submission to outside preachers, outside systems, media, literature, art, and economics, and represents a dark and fallible inner sense. Letting things simply happen, apathetic to their greater truth, nihilistic in meaning, and a walking product of guiding forces around them. A pure empathetic is empathetic to all in all situations, noticing the humanity in all. It is sad to notice the selective empathetic being a prevalent and lauded endeavor, when the qualities of such selective empathetic are thought of also as manipulation. A great contradiction in social morality and personal character judgeme
I don't write when I'm happy, I only write when things seem fake. I can't shake this feeling of crazy, so I take drugs to tell myself a lie for a couple of hours. Today I found out about the truth; I found out about the death of the indigenous people. I was always told about the benevolence of my ancestors. If these are the lies we tell ourselves in order to alleviate our guilt, why must we stop it there? I tell myself I'm good just to continue forward. My face is berated with the tone of my voice, and the reason is because I cannot be good. I find myself returning to the same clown of evil, with the same level of narcissism. I always see those around me in this state, so I must also be in it. I tell myself about the love others have given me, and a minute exercise of optimism appears. It is also a lie. As I sit in silence, the same state of disgust and anguish builds up around me, forcing me to look at the wrinkles in my face, and the invisible tears in m