callous - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Callous is when a person steps away from their love, their empathy and emotional self, to a place of pure logic. Then they make an error. A terrible error that leads them down the wrong path by their nose. They choose to analyse the situation from a point of view of their own selfish gain, uncaring of the pain of others. They could have chosen to use the ability to detach from emotions to find the best path forwards for everyone and then reengage with their empathy and emotional self. First we make our choices, then our choices make us. They build the brain we ask for, one choice at a time.
It was valentines day, the day he hated most in the world, the day when others expected him to be romantic. I told him I loved him, over and over, anything to break through the mask, to see the man beneath. I did. I did break through. But the boy he was had died long ago and in his place was a monster. And so he did what monsters do. It took so long, after what he did, to convince the doctors I was sane, and even then they don't, do they? Not really.
The only ones who say I'm callous are the bleeding hearts and do-gooder losers that just don't cut it. Those dumb wasters need to learn that it's dog eat dog in this world, winner takes all. There are thousands of starving mouths in every block of this city, let alone on earth. Should I forgo my pedicure, my nip and tuck, my beautiful car to buy them rice and lentils? They aren't my problem. I just don't give a crap. I have my penthouse, my four legged baby and a lifestyle to manage. I'm not callous, I'm successful. Anyone who says otherwise is jealous. Now, if you'll excuse me I must take Precious to her pawdicure; she gets so antsy without her pampering, she's a girl after mommy's heart.
Gina flicked her hand lazily to signal the server should leave; he bling-bling platinum bangles shifting and clinking to exaggerate her dismissal. Then she returned her arms to their resting position elbows on the well-shined table and manicured nails almost touching her lips. The bangles fell to the soft skin part way down her arm and lay glinting in the afternoon rays, bright against her brown skin. There they would rest until she had finished drawing information out of the imbecile before her. The man was trying too hard, laughing too easily, uncomfortable in a suit that had a new sheen. She on the other hand underplayed her part, coy and a little slow to warm. Let him feel like he's in charge, that he earned my trust. He was easier to steer than her new Mercedes. She remained girlish, innocent. Beneath her mask of delight and interested listening she was planning this death and the disposal of his body in the same manner most people reserved for write a list of household chores.
The old lady bathed in the attention of the man with the gift catalogue. There was everything for her grandchildren and at such a reasonable price! The smile never left his face, perfect soft lips over perfect white teeth. He was like her son, so kind, so polite! Even his eyes twinkled as he explained the portion that went to the children's hospital and the star that would be added to the christmas tree in her name. He called in her credit card, still smiling and read the numbers. Once the transaction cleared his face slumped faster than a poorly set dessert. He had no more interest in discussing the grandchildren or her holiday snaps, suddenly her little jokes weren't funny at all. He just sat there eating her cookies and sucking back the coffee mutely until it was all gone. She tried harder to engage him again but it was as if she had become invisible. He gathered his belongings and stood, casting a disdainful look around the impoverished room before sweeping out of the front door.
Jerome leaned into his wireless a little closer, there was another genocide brewing in Eastern Europe. His insides tightened and he felt his anxiety flare. He had to do something, something big. Otherwise they'd be using someone else's guns and bullets. Profit down the drain. He buried his left fist into his right palm and twisted it around, wracking his mind for the right contact, someone to broker the deal. He picked up his phone and dialled Gregor. He was on the wrong side of the planet for this deal but he knew people who knew people. He was always a good place to start.
Jana couldn't abide to see a man cry. Weak. Pathetic. Loser. She took her eyes off Gordon as he crumpled. How could he expect her to love him when her wore his heart on his sleeve like a God damn girl. No balls, none whatsoever. She let her eyes flick briefly back to his reddened face, his expression just the same as her father's had been the day mother died. Her phone pinged to remind her of her manicure. She let out a hefty sigh and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Gordon don't call me again. I like a clean cut. Done is done. K?"
Gina took her nephew's hand and walked down the pier as if it were a personal catwalk. While he strained to see the purple starfish that clad the supporting posts so thickly that in places no wood could be seen, she kept her eyes serenely on the horizon. Her shoes clacked over the various hues of the wooden boards, some newer planks with their bright unworn look, others dull and beaten by countless freeze-thaw cycles and the salty air. Such an exposed place, nothing to hide behind. But no-one was looking for her now. They were too busy jumping at their own shadows. She didn't care for the seals that bathed in the harbour or pay attention to the birds. She savoured only the wind in her black hair and the joy of seeing a morning that Mac could not.
She knew she was different from when she was young. Her mother chastised her for not displaying the correct emotions. She asked if it meant the end of her lesson when her friend broke her arm falling off a pony. She wasn't concerned when her brother tripped on nothing and cracked his head on the sidewalk, she just asked if that meant they weren't going out for ice-cream anymore. She was callous, the worries of others were of no concern to her unless she was directly impacted.
The tall spotty youth leaning against the shop doorway, wanted some more weed, but he'd no money. He could see the Famine Relief Box chained to the counter-top just inside, and figured how one sharp tug, should do the trick.
He'd seen images of the starving children on the News, but the desire of his heart determined his actions, and within 30 seconds he was back out, and running down the street.
For his heart was cold, and callous.