One Arbitrium Away

A parasite. I was born this way. Always. I am not an organism that steals nutrients from someone greater than me. I am an organism that hides to be protected. I am not as tangible as stone. I smell as poor as a rat. I stumble and sway like a drunk person hoping for change and prosperity. I hope to be someone. Someone greater. Someone who protects and not who needs protection. Silly me. I smell like cheap ramen noodles. I don't belong. I am not qualified. But I wish to pretend. I belong. I am qualified. I am not me. Silly me. I ought to be valuable. Like an addiction, I suffer from this. I can't even bother to use a metaphor for my feelings. The constant need for validation. The fear of abandonment. Have you heard of the saying? The more you feed it, the larger it gets and the more trapped you become. A long-term cost. I refuse to bother with the past. Perhaps I refuse the trouble of better. How ironic. The wish to be somebody. Yet, it can't even intrude on the idea of its worth. How cliché can it be? To be infected without an infection.