Born to make

Oh, to loath; self, others, it's all the same.
I read a lot of stuff I shouldn't; articles, magazines, websites all about individuals in the public eye, all about their inadequacies and flaws and flaws and flaws. The areas that are most attacked, are the ones that are completely out of any one's control; aging, sweating, eating in a public place and having a picture snapped with mouth agape, basically being human. Oh the outrage at these deficiencies, as if crimes have been committed. All to make a certain segment of the population who put these people in a position of power, only to have the desire to sublimate them at every turn. There's a certain satisfaction obviously, in weakness of those who hold place beyond the norm. Yet, it's us we really desire to undo, it's our own alleged shortcomings or imperfections we disdain.
When I feel that way, and it does come more often with age, I picture what's inside. No, not a good heart and a sound mind, skeleton, muscle, tendon, organs, the whole nine yards of intestines, that kind of puts it into perspective for me.