He had been carrying a big sack of shit around with him his entire life. He was embarrassed about the big sack of shit that he had to carry around with him. And so he disguised his sack of shit in different guises throughout his life. When people asked him about the big sack of shit, he would reply, “No, sir, that is not a big sack of shit. That’s my friend.” He put a pair of those glasses on it. The ones with the plastic moustache coming out at the end. This helped other people not to raise too many questions about the big sack of shit. They would acknowledge the big sack of shit as his friend and move on.
Sometimes, people found themselves conversing with the big sack of shit. He had different names for it, gave it a multitude of different names during the time he had to carry the sack of shit around with him. “So Henry,” they would call the sack of shit, “How’s the weather today?”
When they didn’t receive any suitable response from Henry, people would get angry with the sack of shit. They would grab hold of the sack of shit and try to strangle the truth out of him, “Why aren’t you talking to me Henry!? What’s wrong with you!?”
During these times, he, the carrier of the sack of shit, knew that it was time to move on. He would pick up the sack of shit, as heavy as it was, and move onto the next group of people. Always convincing them that, “No, this isn’t a sack of shit. This is my friend.” And for this he was always lying about the sack of shit that he would have to carry around with him, everywhere he went. He knew if he told them the truth about his sack of shit, other people would judge him harshly and wouldn’t want to know him. Oh, they all had their own sacks of shit. But their sacks of shit were more like handbags of shit. Easily able to be carried around. Easily movable. His sack of shit was so big that he was able to disguise it as a fully grown adult. Dressing it up in a different shirt and clothes. Glasses or sunglasses. Most people didn’t notice the difference between the sack of shit and another person. I guess, because deep down, at heart, we’re all sacks of shit.
One day he got into an argument with another person about his sack of shit, “Well, I’ll be damned if that isn’t the biggest sack of shit I have ever seen.”
“No, sir, that is not a sack of shit. That is my friend.”
“Nah mate, I’m pretty sure that’s a big sack of shit.”
“Don’t talk to him like that, you’ll hurt his feelings.”
“Feelings!? Sacks of shit don’t have feelings. It’s just a big sack, and it’s full of shit.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“I’m pretty sure it is.”
“Look mate. I don’t care if it is a big sack of shit or not. Some people might. I don’t. Now you can continue lying about the big sack of shit you’ve been carrying around with you everywhere or you can face the fact that you’ve been carrying a big sack of shit everywhere you’ve gone throughout your life.”
He thought about it. And then relented, “You’re right. I’ve been lying. It’s a big sack of shit.” From that day on, his life would never be the same.