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A Persistent Lack of Morals

I used to try to do the right thing.  This involved consideration of me, you, and analysis of the situation.  I’d try to see things from your point of view, and honor that.  I’d acknowledge that my perspective is created by my history.  I’d search for a universal truth.  I’d look for what created the least pain, the most good, and go with that.  There was a fundamental morality, a goodness that I tried to honor and to align my actions with.  I thought there was a sensible code of conduct, a universal morality that I felt reasonable and loving people would agree on.  If people wouldn’t violate the rules, we could all get along.  If people would tune into their hearts, we’d have fewer problems in this world. 

Now, none of that really matters.  I don’t think about it.  It’s much simpler.  You are me.  I live in a house of mirrors, and my reflections are you.  There’s nowhere to go.  Nothing can be hidden.  Everything, all my truths, are exposed, brilliantly lit, in these mirrors, you.  If I were to hurt myself, all those reflections would be hurt, and feel the pain, too.  When a person is completely loved, how can they, would they ever, consider hurting themself?  It doesn’t happen.  I am that loved.  My love for ‘you’ is automatic.  I have no morals anymore.