D-word

[Epimetheus]

The devil...

is my apathy, my boredom, any temptation against which I am ultimately too weak to stand, and every moment that I feel I might as well not bother trying – those are the devil – and every carved out path, traveled so many times, eroded by so many steps, that it is now a trench... It makes it hard to see out over the ledge, but if you take the effort to stand on your tiptoes you'll see them – the other paths. But this path, this trench, so eerily like a grave, this is the devil.

No, no, no. Wait. Don't bring YOUR devil into this. I have enough to worry about as it is with my devil. I'm fighting this one for now. In any case, you know what Confucius said: Don't go to a cockroach for pest control advice. Maybe I can spare some help from time to time. But the rotten, weasely weakness in me requires constant surveillance. This devil. It's like a shitstain shadow, this one. Hideous. Ever a loyal tormentor. I can't think my way out of this one.

I can't outthink the devil in me.

The devil's the one doing all my thinking.