When the search engines have forgotten my name; when my most fervent words get doused in gasoline; when the match is lit, who will conceive my worst memories? Who will iterate the narrative of my soul? Nobody, that's who. My reality is understood only by one person, and that person, is my self. There are those among us who claim the self is a myth. But, when we close our eyes at night, what else do we have? If you have no self, who are you plagiarizing? Who is controlling your narrative? How can you claim to be unhappy? And most of all, how can a self-less person, rationalize the concept of being self-less to begin with? Don't believe these words? Turn the page; it doesn't matter. At the end of the day, we'll all find ourselves alone with our selves again anyway. You could, I suppose, just lay there, denying your consciousness, rhythmically, with each and every mechanized breath, but I digress. In my time, I have heard, read, and observed a thing or two and lemme tell ya: The self-inflicted therapeutics some people indulge just to avoid themselves, is proof enough that the self prevails. But even without a self, we are still accountable for our own delusions--right? The self is self-evident, and is a cumulative blob of perceptions and life experiences, seasoned with a smidgen of DNA. Yes, your self is unique, which is why you have never found your self in the pages of a self-help book. Denying the self is ignoring the only person you can wholeheartedly know. Don't listen to those self-less mythologists, embrace your self. The self is the only thing that separates us from the herd.
Addendum: It has occurred to me that my words might be insensitive in the face of those, unfortunate souls, who are lacking the self. But then again, without a self, how can one draw such a conclusion? How demoralizing it must be to operate solely off the fumes of others.
Posted: February 7, 2024, 9:20 pm