I find myself, in the darkest and deepest of the night, pulled into halls. Of the origin, only I can guess. They spiral, boundless into the dark and flickering lights. Faint musings and gushes of wind tickle my ears, urging me to choose a path, a door to go down. I find myself stuck. More halls divide into something new as the wind slams against my back. I remain a statue. Whoosh, slam! A door to my right urges me to make a decision, rumbling and progressing as the halls come to life. The walls shift, morphing into newer caverns, newer doors to open. Down. Down. Down at my feet the floor shifts. I lock my gaze there. I sit, knees tucked up against myself. My eyes twitch as I clamp them shut, my ears numb as I fold them over. Thump. Thump. Thump, and I take a shaky breath and open my eyes. Everything has settled, leaving in place a white room, the same white room in which I found myself stuck a while ago. My eye bags pull down my face, forcing my eyes open. Yet, I stay seated, somehow finding those halls that haunt me in the night and the room of the day one and the same. There will never be an escape. I am forever stuck, glued, and cemented to the ground of the same floor that has comforted me many years before.

Deep breath. Sure my heart hurts, weighed down by the unknown pressure upon my shoulders, but I will be fine. Right? I need help. I need to wait for help. I need to wait for when I don’t have to ask my mom to take me to find help. She will be worried and self reflect upon herself. I worry about her. Nothing about her needs to be changed. I need to change. I wait some more.

Pride seems to be more complicated than it appears to be written on paper. Pride leaves us all blind to see the sorrow of those around us. We self absorb, worry about ourselves, and expect someone to care for us in return. Pride will leave us in a lonely and quiet society, however without it we would not rationally succeed in any capitalist environment. Businesses are founded on any form of greed and continue running for their pride. Humility received when someone’s pride is desecrated is something no man or woman would feel in the presence of others. It lowers us to an embarrassed state where we are left with the scorching gazes of pity and amusement from others. It is something good only in proportions, sometimes one cup, sometimes two, sometimes none at all.