Butler Extraordinaire

[Malek]

A butler's job is a simple one, you live to please, you endeavor to impress. 

You are an investment.

A seed your employer has allowed to grow within their garden. 

You must bloom to be a beautiful flower, a centerpiece with which they may display their status.

You must not grow a weed, lest you be plucked out and tossed back to mundanity.

It is a flower's duty to be perfect, the best flower it can be. 

Everything about you must make your employer's life a better one.

Keep up appearances, be a treat for the eyes. Enhance your fragrance, light up their rooms.

Handle the guests, attract butterflies and bumble bees. Reveal your thorns, deal with maggots and wasps.

Your employer will sometimes request things you do not want to do.

A flower does not choose where to grow. 

If you require rest, while on the clock, find a nice place where you will not be seen.

[Malek]

A sycophant's role is a simple one. Atrocities aside, disagreements disregarded.

You are theirs.

A worker bee that tends to the hive.

You exist to serve the queen, provide her nourishment and care, protect her with your life.

You exist to find another if there is none, you exist to bring about one if you can not.

The bee lives to serve. What of the butterfly?

Wouldn't it be nice to live for the moment to moment relaxation?

The liberty, chasing the beauty you enjoy. 

Live a life for yourself. Keep that which you love, immerse yourself in the color and fragrance.

Do even internal crises need to be described this flowery?

There is conflict, one lifestyle begins to seem alluring.

I've come to learn there are no good people. My inaction and negligent aid mean I don't qualify either.

But there are people I like. There are people that wish to harm them.

I never realized how tiring it would be when the former becomes simultaneously the latter.

Both lifestyles have commonalities. 

The duty to achieve, be it in accomplishment or enchantment. The strong attachment.

But I've come to learn I can't exist for a singular purpose anymore.

I've taken risks before, acted out of a desire to not ask myself "what if".

Perhaps that's a freedom I ought chase more often.

Maybe when I become so painfully aware of other's faults, I don't have to enable them.

Maybe I can start to change.

Allow room for the other self.

A self.