I am securely surrounded by a network of just a single friend. Paradoxical, isn't it? But that's how my cards were dealt. Just this one person engulfing me like a phagocyte ingesting a filthy bacteria, but in my case, I am being protected - unlike the poor germ. Or is that really so? I, for one, am not sure. That one person could be my guardian at one instant and my bloodthirsty foe at another. Trust is a virtue that's really hard to find these days. As the cliched saying goes: "its like finding a needle hidden inside a haystack".
Consider a happy couple making love: are they really that happy? The husband is imagining that his wife is an American porn star he watched in the movie he bought from the video shop down the street, whereas, the wife is imagining that her husband is the tall, muscular and sallow faced Russian she saw in the news. Both are unhappy, but the melancholy on their face is well-hidden by the orgasm they experience. Both lying to no one else but themselves.
The doctor, who was leading an honest unhappy poor life, discovers the promises of the organ trade. He indulges himself in this money-making profession. Here he is busy making his family not realizing that, in another dreary part of the world, another might be experiencing theirs going down to rubble. His guilt flawlessly masked by the greed shadowing his face. He lies to himself; he cannot even trust himself.
It seems unfair, don't you think, that in this wretched sinful world, I am blessed with a friend I can actually rely upon. Surely there should be something that might make me distrust this person. Some point, some weakness that might expose his treachery. By hiding his evil, I'm cheating no one else but myself. I am not just Me, I am the two of Us.
Consider a happy couple making love: are they really that happy? The husband is imagining that his wife is an American porn star he watched in the movie he bought from the video shop down the street, whereas, the wife is imagining that her husband is the tall, muscular and sallow faced Russian she saw in the news. Both are unhappy, but the melancholy on their face is well-hidden by the orgasm they experience. Both lying to no one else but themselves.
The doctor, who was leading an honest unhappy poor life, discovers the promises of the organ trade. He indulges himself in this money-making profession. Here he is busy making his family not realizing that, in another dreary part of the world, another might be experiencing theirs going down to rubble. His guilt flawlessly masked by the greed shadowing his face. He lies to himself; he cannot even trust himself.
It seems unfair, don't you think, that in this wretched sinful world, I am blessed with a friend I can actually rely upon. Surely there should be something that might make me distrust this person. Some point, some weakness that might expose his treachery. By hiding his evil, I'm cheating no one else but myself. I am not just Me, I am the two of Us.
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