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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It doesn’t matter if I ruined myself from intoxication, even for a moment, as long as I can get drunk from the wine named arrogance. Although arrogance is the robe so colorful that it blinds ordinary man accustomed only to a quiet color and it’s conspicuous vividness stunning onlookers and plumps down to become a lame, doesn’t matter its consequence, I would like to wear the robe of arrogance because most people think not only that it’s proper to honor and admire arrogant one but even respect, awe and consider him holy. Because the audience overly admires arrogant one, speak highly of his every movement and daily activities, moreover, audience welcomes the arrogant one with thunderous hand-clapping, jump up and down with cry in excitement and even tear impressed by his lordliness. The audience praises arrogant one from the heart with great admiration, uttering, he is a broad-minded noble with a high-spirited appearance that only strong one can display, pure like clear dew reflecting early morning sun-ray, and more. Nevertheless, you shouldn’t have hatred for the arrogant one because he is a snob just like the emperor* who struts on the daylight way surrounded by his dignified chamberlains, wearing priceless silken gown trimmed and woven with gold threads and uniquely tailored for him. I wonder why I have a keen desire for glorified moments like an arrogant one, and behave in a lordly manner intoxicated by wine of arrogance though I know the cost of pomposity very well indeed. *ref: Hans Christian Andersen’s the Emperor’s New Clothes
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