stronger.

I used to throw my haters some shade but over time they collected it, tiny little morsels of respite from the light of my brilliance. Climbing day over day like scaling sheer cliffs, gleaning what little darkness my glance askance could afford them, and now after mountains of time my haters wander the desert free of thirst, free of fear. They buy gold jewelry with the money they save on suntan lotion and stretch their arms out from beneath their canopy, wrists glinting and jingling as they dance. They crouch beneath trees to amplify the shade and take naps in daytime. I squint at them through the blinding light. I’d give them dirty looks but they’d only develop an immunity to dangerous bacteria because what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

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