Poor in humility,
I wish my ill-deserved pride would
Depart from me
I have never liked having to revise my work; I know- and have long known- my work is not perfect. Yet I feel insolence rise within me at any thought of changing my words to fit someone else's perceived perfection and my insolence, lest it surface, I turn into indolence, and sit still until my pride evaporates enough to correct- agh- change whatever need be.
My pride is taking a particularly hard beating this evening. I am writing a column for my school's newspaper. I submitted it to my journalism teacher this morning and was told this afternoon that I should re-write it to focus on either criticism for the current student government- which was very obviously not an option for me, anyhow- or on the importance of critical thinking in the voting process. I chose the latter. Now.. I am angered, likely because I cannot express all the contempt I feel about modern "democracy" in my column. I doubt that my piece shall mean anything to anyone now, with all of its revisions and such. It has no oomph; it has no backbone. It is flimsy and it stings me that I can't change that. I haven't the writing ability.. But my pride tells me that it is THEM, they don't understand and they wish to avoid the truth.... Pride, if I don't completely vanquish you, you shall be the death of me. Step aside, now and forevermore.