greed - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Greed comes from brains that suffer underdevelopment in the areas that deal with empathy and creative perspective taking - or "love" as we generally call it.
Business had to ask themselves if they were exploiting the population or uplifting them, especially in relation to the young. For what is psychological maturity other than learning how to make wise choices to protect others? The glorification of greed was as a golden tricycle being pedalled in circles at the end of a cul-de-sac... yet believing itself a fancy car shooting into the far horizon. Greed is always the product of a brain with underdevelopment of its more highly evolved features.
Your greed will be a sword in your guts; the hand who twists it will be your own. Yet in each surge of pain know that it is you who are helped, for in the fire of shame and guilt exists the ashes of your birth, a death to bring a life, for an old you to pass and let a new you flourish. All I need do is love you, help, be kind... and the rest dear one... is in your hands. Should you ever feel able, pull the sword yourself, for you are the rock and the rescue you seek. None other can remove what you have inflicted to your soul.
You greedy screech as a howling wind that bites and claws. You are the monsters who see a ballet dancer in the mirror.
Killing for food has always been part of nature; to provide food is a form of love. To provide for a family is often a lifetime of dedicated love. Yet the same act done only for monetary gain, for wealth beyond what is needed (with or without environmental degradation), is greed. To destroy life for the gain of something imaginary has to be a kind of societal madness. We cannot replicate what we kill or destroy, and so it's undertaking should be serious and solemn, done in a way that honours the life lost.
A small beast no bigger than a grass snake sat curled around the bones of his rib cage. Nasty and vicious it was, green-yellow eyes painted with jealousy. But it was forever guarding a wound in its underbelly, pierced by two arrows named Desperation and Misery.
The beast took him captive at a young age, and was fiercely hungry. Now it reared its head and screamed "Feed me!" for its name was Power, and Power was never satisfied.
It was hard to deny the little beasts cries, for when he struggled against it, Power constricted around the prongs of his ribs in the hopes to crush his good will.
He would never escape it. So he obeyed.