one

Just as sorrow covets compassion, vanity craves praise.

this bit of contradicta … contradictum? …. by nick piombino … touches on one moment near the end of my day … a moment that has colored … tinted … tainted my mood ever since …

i’m not going to tell the story … but there was a moment this afternoon … an appeal to my vanity … i’d almost come to think i wasn’t vain … fool … there was praise i didn’t know i needed but it was discolored & lost … a mere ploy as my vanity saw it … and now this slow ember … anger … i’m disgruntled … at what could not have been couched more gently … but nonetheless couched without comfort … i always say “no one is more aware of my faults my flaws & gaping holes than i am” … i say it often … so why should i ever expect praise … vanity … feels it deserves … something … and there’s nothing i deserve … i know it now … the thinness of a thought a judgment about oneself … less than a hope really … a little wish to be the one i thought i was … and disappointment now to be bound to this … that i can’t just walk away … from it … vanity

don’t worry … i’m ok … but tired