How far is heaven?

"Pride is a wonderful, terrible, thing, a seed that bears two vines, life and death.” -James Hurst

I have long loved this quote, as I have long been the acquaintance of pride.


Pride. I believe it will be the death of me. I have stared pride in the eye, I have tasted pride on my tongue, and I have felt it wrap it's knowing claws around my neck.

I have been proud of my accomplishments. I have been too proud to ask for help. I have been proud of my son. I have been too proud to point out others mistakes when I am blamed for them. I have been too proud to tell the person that is leaving me that I will miss them. I have been too proud for almost everything. I have been too proud to cry.


Where does this stem from, I wonder? From whom did I inherit this disease? I see people make asses of themselves on a regular basis. It doesn't bother them, but it really bothers me. And I never want to be the jackass. I never want someone to think anything negative about me. Why? Who cares?