Reality Essay
A Knock-Out Blow From Reality
An evident wave of embarrassment and shame swarmed over my face, a feeling of isolation and disgust embraced my body. “I don’t know why I did it, they were just laying there on the shop shelf,” begging me, pleading with me to take them. Pokémon Cards the source of my enjoyment but the equivalent to my disgust and nauseate.
Looking back on what I had just done, I felt weak and worthless, giving into temptation signified my lack of self-character. I had committed a petty crime, and the self denial and regret which bestowed me from stealing cancelled out any feelings of ecstasy and elation that the cards gave me. My body was a symbol of weakness, invaded by an army of pitiful and shameful emotions. With no excuses and nothing to blame for the crime, it made me feel even worse.
As I hurried away from the store, the winter breeze slapped against my face, as if to say “shame, shame, shame” I pulled my prize from out of my jacket pocket, instead of being my brand new FREE, deck of Pokémon cards they took on the form of a dark icon of guilt. Realisation had kicked in and the cards didn’t seem to nag at my brain, begging to be had anymore. An innocent 8 year old boy, corrupted by his temptation and desire to win and have what he wanted. I felt sick, uncertain and scared, torn between emotions, whether to return or to keep my controversial Pokémon cards. To me these cards were like a social status, the more you had hence the cooler and more popular you were in the schoolyard. I couldn’t return them now, I was too embarrassed, my face flushed bright red just at the thought of everyone perving and looking on as I returned the cards. I felt like an animal in the wild, animalistic instincts and traits had crept into me. The desire to have what I wanted, I needed the cards so bad they felt like an essential, a source of survival. The thrill in the act of stealing felts automatic at time, like an instinct, a given behaviour. “Snatch, grab and
An evident wave of embarrassment and shame swarmed over my face, a feeling of isolation and disgust embraced my body. “I don’t know why I did it, they were just laying there on the shop shelf,” begging me, pleading with me to take them. Pokémon Cards the source of my enjoyment but the equivalent to my disgust and nauseate.
Looking back on what I had just done, I felt weak and worthless, giving into temptation signified my lack of self-character. I had committed a petty crime, and the self denial and regret which bestowed me from stealing cancelled out any feelings of ecstasy and elation that the cards gave me. My body was a symbol of weakness, invaded by an army of pitiful and shameful emotions. With no excuses and nothing to blame for the crime, it made me feel even worse.
As I hurried away from the store, the winter breeze slapped against my face, as if to say “shame, shame, shame” I pulled my prize from out of my jacket pocket, instead of being my brand new FREE, deck of Pokémon cards they took on the form of a dark icon of guilt. Realisation had kicked in and the cards didn’t seem to nag at my brain, begging to be had anymore. An innocent 8 year old boy, corrupted by his temptation and desire to win and have what he wanted. I felt sick, uncertain and scared, torn between emotions, whether to return or to keep my controversial Pokémon cards. To me these cards were like a social status, the more you had hence the cooler and more popular you were in the schoolyard. I couldn’t return them now, I was too embarrassed, my face flushed bright red just at the thought of everyone perving and looking on as I returned the cards. I felt like an animal in the wild, animalistic instincts and traits had crept into me. The desire to have what I wanted, I needed the cards so bad they felt like an essential, a source of survival. The thrill in the act of stealing felts automatic at time, like an instinct, a given behaviour. “Snatch, grab and