Camera phone

I'm an unethical cad.

Sometimes I think it would be better if I was someone else, with other goals, other drives, other sensory requirements. Lying is part of my core but I am told it is not part of every man.

You see, there comes a time in my every day when I look at myself and feel I am decidedly lacking in something. Some call it self loathing and it hurts like the sins of our fathers all congealed into my generation.

When I get like this I look into myself and see the growing fire of dissatisfaction coming from my soul and it's licking each level inside me working it's way up. Fire hurts, my emptiness hurts, and I am desperate for salvation.

You would like to see the contents of my camera phone as incriminating evidence. As you start to see exactly how disgusting I am, my internal damage control mechanism would kick in and we'd find some macho common ground. All of a sudden be close buddies and you'd forget that I did your sister and broke her heart.

Maybe on the other hand you are a member of my portable just-fucked-you gallery, you'll still not hate me for long. I still look good, and I still cruise through this city like I own it. The truth is, as human animals, the fact that my genes gave me the body and the face you would see means that in the moment I do own the space I am in wherever I am.

My camera phone has a population of good moments that ended poorly, but just as I carry it around with me, so do I carry my concealed baggage. No matter how much I hurt you with my callous heart, you'll never hate me more than I hate myself.