ego sum iactum

I’m in the cast. I’ve been casted. In a desperate bid to appear humble I cast my eyes downwards on this overcast day. I can’t afford to allow them to think that I think that I’m better than them, my friends. They are my friends. By random fluctuation I just happen to be better than them. I just happen to be better in this instance; it doesn’t necessitate an overall trend or design. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t want it, I don’t shape the invisible forces that guide us. It chose me. They will need comforting, naturally. I can accept this outcome, why can’t they? I’ve never been bitter when they are arbitrarily selected as better. I do my bit to cheer them up by reminding them of their previous successes in prior cases but capitulate to the preciousness of pride. My internal struggle feels an eternity amongst my friends. I already feel the burden of having been chosen. A silent state of equity between rightful satisfaction and righteous selflessness. I downplay my excellence to alleviate the excessive misery surrounding my circumstances. Between bartering my fortune for their bereavement, I can barely go on any longer. I must be the most self aware person I know.