What’s in your box?

In Narcissa Balenciaga, Promo by Narcissa Balenciaga

What’s in your box?

Everyone who has ever traversed this earth carries a bag filled with what they give to the world.

It all started when Pandora was given her gift from Zeus himself.

Within its stitched confines exist the objects that made her known to the world.

She was given her box and was told to never open it.

She almost immediately opened that door, consequences be damned.

The moment she did, people all across Arcadia started to clutch their heart, started to breathe heavy, started to feel pain throughout their entire vessel.

That’s because the box contained all that is bad in this place.

From lies to death, every moment of pain can be placed to that one specific moment.

Every bad feeling, every heartache, every single negative situation in your life is due to Pandora.

However, it was a gift and due to that, there had to be some good in it.

Hope, the thing that keeps us going, the thing that helps us survive when the world is burning around us, was put in that box to offset all the harm that was waiting for us.

Pandora’s box is a reminder that not all gifts are good nor is everything that seems evil fully wicked so it makes you question the true character of someone’s box and wonder if they are good, evil, or most likely, somewhere in between.

Our inherent gift to the world can be considered our box, gift wrapped in muscle, blood, skin tissue, and viscera, ourselves or our soul is what we give.

So Dr. Death, what’s in your box?

It’s not as simple as looking in your leather-bound doctor bag and finding the objects that make your daily mission in life possible, it’s looking within a part of you that I’m not even sure exists.

Tell me I’m wrong Dr. Death, all I see in you is the worst of humanity, someone who delights in pain and suffering despite having the profession that is meant to help people, that’s meant to give them hope.

I have to use that scalpel to cut into you to prove that you’re indeed human. When that sanguine blood trickles down your body, it’s the only way to know and then, it almost feels worse to know you are and that delighting in others’ suffering can be part of the human condition.

In your box, all I see is all the evil contained in hers, I hope I’m wrong.

As for mine, sure there’s a darkness there, an anger that my trauma crystallized, a jealousy my husband made sure existed but for the most part I’m riding on hope, a hope that I will make Arcadia change for the better, a hope that the man who’s running this place is replaced with someone who actually cates about others, a hope that this world will be ran by people like me who care about others and want to make this world a better place.

A hope that this world will have less people like you.