The snake inside the glass case was being looked at strangely by the strangers. A father told his son that the animal has poison which it transfers to the one it bites killing the victim instantly. The little kid was afraid to go near the cage. I stood there looking at the animal that laid still. Was its own fault that it made itself a snake in the first place? Was it it’s own decision to live a life of being hated for what it is? What can it do to change the scorn that has grown for it with time? It felt similar. There are unchangeable, immutable elements in our selves that are hated and looked down upon. Deep inside we wish to be better but we cannot change anything. At times the only cure left is to lay still in our glass case and write it down.