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a moth goes into a podiatrist's office. the podiatrist asks, "what's the problem?"
the moth responds, "what's the problem? where do i begin? i go to work everyday for gregor ilinilovich. to be honest doc, i don't even know what i'm doing anymore. i don't think mr ilinilovich even knows what is happening these days. he only knows that he has power over me and that seems to bring him his only shred of happiness. i awake in a malaise and walk here and there."
the podiatrist seemed troubled but encouraged the moth to continue. the moth lifted his head from his hands, "doctor, some mornings i awake next to some old women on my arms, a woman that i once loved but now barely recognise. my youngest, alexandria, fell last year. she was taken down by the cold, a cold that took many of us. and my boy... this is the hardest part to accept. my boy, pitor, i no longer love him. when i look in his eyes, all i see is the same cowardice that i see in the mirror. if only i was stronger, perhaps i could bring myself to reach for the loaded gun i keep in my nightstand. bring myself to end this hellish facade that has become my life. sometimes i feel like i am caught in a spider's web, above a candle. not sure if i will succumb to the deadly predator or the burning fire."
the doctor looked at the moth with much concern and said, "moth, you are clearly troubled, but you should be seeing a psychologist, why did you come to a podiatry office?"
the moth replied, "because the light was on"
the moth responds, "what's the problem? where do i begin? i go to work everyday for gregor ilinilovich. to be honest doc, i don't even know what i'm doing anymore. i don't think mr ilinilovich even knows what is happening these days. he only knows that he has power over me and that seems to bring him his only shred of happiness. i awake in a malaise and walk here and there."
the podiatrist seemed troubled but encouraged the moth to continue. the moth lifted his head from his hands, "doctor, some mornings i awake next to some old women on my arms, a woman that i once loved but now barely recognise. my youngest, alexandria, fell last year. she was taken down by the cold, a cold that took many of us. and my boy... this is the hardest part to accept. my boy, pitor, i no longer love him. when i look in his eyes, all i see is the same cowardice that i see in the mirror. if only i was stronger, perhaps i could bring myself to reach for the loaded gun i keep in my nightstand. bring myself to end this hellish facade that has become my life. sometimes i feel like i am caught in a spider's web, above a candle. not sure if i will succumb to the deadly predator or the burning fire."
the doctor looked at the moth with much concern and said, "moth, you are clearly troubled, but you should be seeing a psychologist, why did you come to a podiatry office?"
the moth replied, "because the light was on"
