500

Down

The lowest of the low.
How far could I sink?
Just as I revelled in rock bottom new depths revealed themselves to me.
Hateful, loathsome and detestable, I continued to find new atrocities to add to my repertoire which made my past achievements pale and fade into insignificance.
I thought myself the villain but always, always there was one more villainous, more odious than I.
I dig with bloody nails and gritted teeth passing the worlds worst on my descent. Rogues and rascals of every description sneer in my direction as I surpass their deceptions and evil deeds.
I have passed so many of them that their number escapes me.
Could there be as many more still to overcome?
What if this endless parade of monsters is just that: endless?
An infinitely descending cellar of serpents spitting venom up and out at those less venomous than they.
Infinity - I pause to ponder this a while...
Like most who take the time to consider its implications I feel the weight of it begin to lay heavy on my purpose. Smothering my determination, pissing on my fire as I shrivel and shrink amongst the vastness of eternity.
It's not what you may first think which halts me in my tracks and roots me to the spot.
The notion that I may never become the ultimate fiend? That there will always be one more diabolical than I stalking around the next corner ready to pour scorn on my feeble attempts?
Yes this offends me. Causes the bile to rise in my throat and my face to contort into an inhuman grimace, yet there is something else more dreadful lurking in the recesses of my mind.
If an infinity of malcontent exists below me then the number of those nobler extends similarly above.
Where does that position me in the great scheme of existence?
I'll tell you exactly where:
Merely treading water in a middling inter-zone. An uninspiring puddle barely worth mentioning.

So here I will dwell in perpetual mediocrity whilst the universe expands equally in every direction from my position.
No matter how I direct my efforts, for either good or ill, I will always remain unimpressively average. Lost in the colourless centre of the great vastness of creation.
Down is relative. My position specious.
Undistinguished.
Resigned to mere observation, I recline against the cold truth of my predicament and fail to remark as I slowly rot.