Vegetable Martyrs, I guess.

Sometimes I think some of us live like metaphoric vegetables. You take in as much toxicity from the things around you and do your best to transmute it to a breathable substance for them to thrive in. It’s like turning the other cheek, but with photosynthesis and prolonged analogies.
Or, maybe, that’s just another way of making it easier to be in a crowd of others, a newer, more complex, system of self flagellation.

When I grow up I want to be a dead cat, or a vegetable martyr, I guess.

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