The Monitor

I am the Monitor.

Some people want to pretend I don't exist. That's alright by me.

99% of my job I do silently. So it isn't surprising that my presence would be dismissed.

Then there are the people who call me God or The Wise One or sometimes even Satan (yes, I can get a little cheeky). Pretty bizarre when you think of it - all that power from the brain of an overgrown ape. Can you spell ego? Fine, I thought you could.

Mostly I just listen anyway. Sometimes I nod. Do you recognize me yet?

I know your innermost thoughts; your darkest secrets. Because they're mine. I am you, or the mirror reflection if that's easier. You've got to admit you love me more than you love yourself.

Let's face it, I'm someone to talk to. You have to have someone to talk to during your miserable little existence. Don't worry, I'm not judging you - you and me, we travel as a package, so anything I say about you I'm saying about myself (and vice-versa, by the way). I'm just trying to get your attention here, so humor me a tad of cynicism.

Believe it or not, I'm not engaging in pointless ramble here. You already know I don't speak out of turn lightly. If your mirror could speak to you, what would it say? (And no, I don't refer here to the witch story - that's been played through already).

I want to tell you that you're lovable.

Except I can't - not a for sure promise, anyway.

You see, aside from me (and this one too is qualified) no person can ever love you completely.

You're going to need a bath sooner or later - we all will. The difference with me is that I can't leave you even if I want to. I can't beat you bloody. I can't make you see my point with force. I can't argue with you until I'm blue in the face - I don't have one. Not unless you decide to give me one.

But you're lovable.

The reason is simple.

Nothing you can DO or NOT DO can make you LOVABLE or UNLOVABLE.

If I wasn't writing, I'd say it twice for effect - so read it again.

Neither you nor I are a human DOING. We (well, at least you) are a human BEING.

Oh, I know the arguments.

Life doesn't really work like the (ideal) description. Every person has to figure out some strategy to carve their survival out of this hellhole of a planet. You could do it with good looks if you're lucky enough. You could work yourself to death, and make it play out. Forget the bath - EVERYBODY is subject to IT. And whether you want to believe it or not, therein lies your salvation.

Because it's everybody.

The only real resource you have in this world is about 7 billion other people.

That's another one I'd read twice if I were you (and we've already established that I am).

So do us both a favor.

Love ME even if you can't seem to love yourself. The only thing I can promise you in return is that I'll be here as long as you are. Not much, I admit, but we're all we've got. Well us and those 7 billion others. It could certainly be (about 7 billion) worse.