The shield of Perseus is my bathroom mirror

The shield of Perseus is my bathroom mirror.

It has been stated the vast majority of mankind, as far as most behavioural, intellectual, and probably spiritual (although this last category can’t be measured by any test) fall on the arch of the Bell Curve. That is to say most people are average. By the same token, it is a minority of mankind for which can be called Evil or Righteous. Likewise other extremes are equally applicable to similar numbers, and perhaps in some instances the same individual. The Evil Genius come to mind, as does the Gentle Giant. As far as ethical behaviour is considered most people are basically sheepishly following the majority of society in which they live.
Over the past several months I have been forced to admit to myself of mean I truly am. This has bore insights heretofore unacknowledged by me, although those closest to me have seen them. Not to say that I am evil or a psychopath, yet and still, I have been told, in the distant past, before that various utterances of mine border on or are completely like what one would expect from a sociopath or, at the very lest, an obscenly selfish and egocentric jerk.
Thus enter the Gorgon. The monster who is so ugly that her fearsome countenance instills such fear that those who dare to face her are turned into stone. An awesome dread that paralysed most in to being completly and utterly dumbfounded. Only be using the mirror (or devices which reflect) can the head of the beast be removed, and will the winged horse of free thought and the warrior in gold armor. Yet the beast must be beheaded first before the warrior can soar in the the future.
This analysis of the Gorgon is not my own personal critique of it. I first heard the on WBAI, and it is at this point that I would like to apologize to the gentleman who stated this, I cannot recall your name and thus, I am unable to refer people to your work.
Refectory images of a Dorian Gray. Kill the snarling Medusa within. Reflect on the self in a honest fashion and the paralysis of fear of the monster I am will not effect me. To transform is frightening. To admit I am not who I would like to be is an abyss; a pit of melancholy blackness.
The shield keep me whole as I confront the beast. Viewing it from all angles exposes it weaknesses. Spoiled, cowardly, selfish, snapping at prospects of change. However, the point of my existence now is to change into a man who is more like Muhammad,

and less a tool of his own caprcice. My mistakes, shortcomings, vice and viciousness are my own. Any achievements, beauty, and successes are undeserved gifts from ﷲ ﻏﺰّﺓ و ﺟﻞ. There is no power or might without him ﻻ ﺣﻮﻟﺔ و ﻻ ﻗﻮﺓ ﺍِﻼ ﺑﷲ.


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