I can’t change who I am – nobody can.
I am a victim of circumstance, but a
victim is something I can never let myself become. The second you let yourself become a victim, your personal growth ceases, movement decreases, and your legs become nothing more than the stumps of a fallen tree. You become dead.
My first name is Luther.
Apparently, I was named after some husky baritone. I have never taken the time to research said fact, for my life span is very brief.
My last name is Burger, thus designating my origins. One half of my family came from Germany, the other half was brought over to North America by Dutch settlers. I am of the Krispy Kreme variety.
I have always seen myself as a ghastly concoction likened to the dreams of Dr. Frankenstein – maybe even a clown sprung forth from the commonwealth of Pagliacci and his compatriots.
I am a bacon double cheeseburger encompassed by doughnut buns.
I come from a gruesome dynasty of death causation, my high caloric content bringing grizzly fortunes to millions of Americans. This is a lineage for which I have neither love nor pride. There is offered no solace in repentance, so I don’t repent, for it is a destiny I can neither change nor control; I am but a simple burger.
I am nothing more than components of which I am assembled: a mere reflection of my creator. I am a hamburger, just as much as I am a doughnut. I am part clown and part mass murderer; a bringer of novelty as much as a carrier of obesity and young death.
Someday, maybe I can become the fertilizer that becomes the seed of growth, the first great mover of creation. All I can hope for is to someday rise above my origins – become more than what I am – more than the purpose for which I was created.
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