The Woe-Man

     That's what they call me. Too often are their voices filled with lust, a burning and ugly thing that forms the bars of my god-forsaken cage. Some nights, it is of a childish sort. Most nights, it is adult in nature, large and controlling. Those nights are spent wishing to simply vanish from this world and reappear in a place filled with those called by the same name. Sometimes, I find a way out and experience contact with my kin. Perhaps it is not lust that they suffer from, but they are no angels. We are no angels. Throughout time we have been called as such, but with the silent whisper of the name we now share. We were items to be possessed, and yet blamed for any imperfections. The pressure was first placed on our Eve, but nothing can be perfect and so we fell in the eyes of our fresh captors.

     We became evil as a whole in their eyes. They need us, you know. I think it threatens them. They found an enemy that they could not kill entirely. They love us at times. They hate us at times. They depend on us at all times.

    But still they oppress us. They reduce us to primal things. They reduce us to desires and stereotypes. They teach us to do the same to ourselves. The words they have for us are always reminiscent of their disdain for us. The name for us is woe. The name for those of us who are siblings is sinister. I feel like a monster with this name. They might as well call me wolf-man or another degrading name that reduces us to a single attribute.

     They blame us for their woe. They make the claim that we are the cause for it all. If they grow jealous and begin to fight, then they blame the object that "caused" for one to get jealous. They take no responsibility for the evil in their hearts.

      But too often are jealous whispers spread around those like me. When they leave us alone, we fight amongst each other, forsaking the illusion of unity that we so desperately put up when they are around. We get jealous and blame it on them, just as they do to us. We succumb to lust and judge based upon appearance just like they do at times. We reduce them to desires and stereotypes. We criticize them for their imperfections as well. We make them into evil monsters and share the same love-hate relationship. We depend on them. Those of them that are siblings we say are bothers. We are no different in how we treat them. The method of abuse remains the same. We take no responsibility for the evil in our hearts.

      On a physical level, we differ, but fundamentally we are the same.

-Zero