Good people have the most to hide. How can anyone’s intentions ever be “pure?” There is always a motive, always a reason, always that blackness behind the caring smile, oozing through their body, corrupting their thoughts. They can’t hide it for too long. Pretty soon, that disgusting feeling inside turns their smiles brittle, crunches their ribs, seizing up their chests, making it hard to lie any longer. And so, they become stone, a statue frozen as they truly are, not good people at all. When your heart turns to stone, your body soon follows it.
Why do you think there are so many memorials of do-gooders throughout the streets? Did you really think that they were just works of art? I guess they are now, in a way. One must find beauty in the madness. Take a bad thing and make it good, they say. Gotta turn those lemons into lemonade, don’t we? Don’t worry, they do it to themselves in time. Sometimes, it is jealously, a brother trying to outshine their sibling. Hatred is always fun, that one is the quickest because it is the hardest to hide for very long. You know how a kiln bakes pottery? Yeah, it’s kinda like that. The heat from hate practically bakes the person from the inside out. Maybe for you, it is sorrow, the loss of a child, perhaps? Good might come out of it, but what is to become of you? Your good is just you trying to drown the feelings, replace the loss. It’s all about you, and what’s the good in that?
I thought I was good. Once. That was a long time ago. I’ve been watching for a while now. Who, me? Oh no, I’m not a statue, at least not a pure one. Sure, I’ve got a few rough patches but those I can manage. Want to know the secret? Be your truest self. Don’t hide what you are, that’s what gets them. And it gets so many of them. For some reason, you seem to think that pretending is better than being what you are. Embrace the darkness. Welcome it! Embrace the light, I guess, if you actually have that. It really is rare to find one of those though. Usually you’re a mix of both. But everyone wants to pretend they are good people. Or bad. Don’t think that being completely bad is going to help you either. You can be the worst criminal in the world, but if your heart wants to pet that puppy and you make yourself kick it instead to keep up your villainous persona, congrats, your skin is taking on a grayish hue, my dear.
Not you? Wow, I haven’t heard that one before. Good luck with that. Not many listen to me. You know, your type is the funniest case that I see, the ones when someone genuinely thinks they are good. They ignore the symptoms, thinking, “Heavens no, it could not possibly be that! That only happens to other people, it never will to me!” Surprise, surprise. Just another statue to decorate the lawn, place this one in some dusty corner, stick the newest gargoyle on the nearest roof. Stop deluding yourselves.
Feel that tinge in your neck? That annoying little pain that makes you feel stiff when you sit up? It’s beginning. You’re going to look so lovely in the garden.