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The Death of Disgust

- Who are you?

- I am your disgust.

- What do you want?

- Obviously, to make you feel disgusted. Disgusted of yourself, or your failure, of your worthiness, of your complete uselessness. You didn't listen to me when I was trying to warn you: "let me out or I will explode". You silenced me with mambo jambo, excuses, tomorrows...and now you are trapped with me, literally, physically. I am inside you, no silence will keep me still.

- I can kill you.

- Can you?

- I can sit here with you, for ages, until your voice is silenced.

- ...and yet, that would kill you too. Heroic, the Thelma and Louise of inner demons.

- What do you want to tell me?

- First I want to punish you, for being such a sheep, for waiting, for rushing, for floating, for not making plans, for planning too much...

- You start to sound just like me...Do you want to punish me for everything?

- Sort of. You disgust me with your moaning and your hopelessness...that void in your stomach? Horrendous, pathetic.

- What will you do after punishing me with your words?

- Oh, dear...I will help you.

- These are old ways to teach, don't you agree? Helping by punishment.

- I really didn't want to be the bummer, but since you are not acting, I have no choice.

- We always have a choice.

- Exactly.What are the choices you are not making, the actions your are not taking?

- Not living is one of them. Not blossoming. But I already know that. I don't need your disgust as a reminder. You have visited me and taken over my house, you think you belong here, but remember: you don't. I might have let you in, with all the voices in my head and all the eyes I look at myself through, but this too shall pass. In the meantime, since you seem to feel very strong inside me, please, take a seat, make yourself comfortable. Let's stay here, let's throw words at each other, until we can throw each other actions. And actions will kill you.

- And help you.

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