Guilt
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“No man will cry over sentimentality. He will, however, weep when the boulder during the present, buries him further into the earth. The guilt, harbored upon his shoulders, docked as a ship within his heart, overloaded with the cargo of self-disappointment, offers him the curse of blame for what he could not protect. Competence is,
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“Written in the ways of purism, is the idea that one blood is inferior, or lacking in quality, over another. To base politics around race, around gender, around creed, is to recede to the aristocracy mentality, though swapped. It is to say that impurity is purity. Perhaps it is that we are all the same,
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“To act on impulse, without thought, with no clarity, is comparable to the psychopath who kills without knowing who he is killing. Any person whose vulnerability defines what they share in the world, defines also what they are guilty for sharing. Meaning, that a person who shares their secrets with those who they do not
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Dialogue #1 “Beauty Reflects…” Beauty: Beast: Dialogue #2 “A Man’s Guilt Buried” Beauty: Beast: Dialogue #3 “A Woman’s Guilt on Top” Beauty: Beast: Dialogue #4 “Beauty is the Vulnerable Flesh” Beauty: Beast: Dialogue #5 “A Man, as the Beast” Beauty: Beast: Dialogue #6 “A Woman, as Beauty” Beauty: Beast: Dialogue #7 “When Guilt should not
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Guilt will override shame, so that the betterment of behavior creates the betterment of the self. Guilt and shame, with the former being a personal feeling, and the latter being directed from an exterior viewpoint. In a man’s world, guilt is felt by himself, for his action. In a woman’s world, guilt is felt by
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How is your demise,Appearing, before your eyes?How are those closed lies,Looking, before your closed lids?How is every detail, quitting you,While you remember what is deemedOnly by you,To be necessary for memory? There are many things you should remember,But, you’ll only remember specifics,It is a pathetic way. How is your guilt treating you?Gutting you?Eviscerating you? How
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“A memory is much alike the waves of an ocean, in recession. And, when they recede from your feet, they’ll return, to throw tiny droplets as high as your nostrils, so you’ll breathe in whatever scent they have always come to you across. Whether they are sweet or bitter, you cannot forget.” – Modern Romanticism


