Why am I still here?
I’m here to piss you off, to remind you that you’re not who you think you are.
All this niceness you dress yourself with, all these friends you surround yourself with, all this makeup and bright white teeth, none of it is you.
You’re a mask, a walking Christmas tree with ornaments and colored lights flashing. Yeah, you’re a fucking pine tree, all green and greedy, covered with needles. Without the ornaments you’re just a pile of pricks.
I’m here to remind you who you really are. I’m your true reflection, the one you don’t want to look into. I’m the magic mirror here to tell you how ugly your beautiful exterior is.
I’m sorry I exist. Sorry I was put into your life. Sorry I never say how wonderful you are and how much I admire you. Your fake friends can do that. I don’t do this shit. Sorry.
You can hate me. I allow you to abhor me. Because I don’t flatter you like the others do. I’m a thorn in your life, ain’t I? You wish I would leave but I won’t. You dragged me into your life, remember. You lured me in like a fish. Now you’re stuck with me.
I know why I’m here. I’m here to piss you off because you pissed me off first. I’m your karma. I’m the effect of your cause, the harvest that you sowed. The rotten fruit of your labor.