Today I watched a play I didn't direct.
On stage - people I had taught to walk, to talk, to work.
People I lifted up while they still believed success was measured in bread, not character.
Today those same actors played their parts against me.
And badly, at that.
But dirty enough that, for money, you could still hear the applause.
They testified against me. And for him - the man who was once my abuser and is now their savior.
Betrayal has strange math: the smaller the sum, the greater the loss of honor.
And as I watched them sweating it out on the witness stand, I wasn't angry.
I was disgusted.
Because it's not terrible when someone hates you - what's terrible is when someone sells you out for pocket change.
I used to believe people were guided by their hearts.
Today I know that many are driven by fear, self-interest and cheap ambitions.
They sell themselves for a day's pay and lose eternity.
And while they talked, I watched them and thought:
"What does your peace cost, dear soul? What is your lie worth?"
Some sold themselves for bread, some for attention, some for the illusion of power.
I have no price for that.
Maybe that's why I'm sitting alone on this side, but at least I don't have to play the victim while actually being a spineless human being.
And when the courtroom emptied and the lies scattered like flies around rotting morals, only silence remained.
Silence - in which I could hear myself breathe.
And that was enough for me.
Because I didn't lose.
They did.
Because a soul, once sold, can never be bought back.
And me?
I just realized that the most expensive luxury of all is - staying clean.
And that the truth, when it's naked, still looks better than any lie dressed up in a suit.