Essentially, there’s a degree of egotism that we all fester. Though we all condemn the plagues of the ego and the vice of such a narcissistic characteristic, we all have it. It is irrefutably innate. It paradoxically reflects the righteous dignity and the wicked arrogance of the human soul.
My ego is all that you’ll see of me. These words that I type are part of my ego. This bombastic language and these philosophical reflections cannot only be attributed to intelligence. So you’re reading my ego; I act upon my ego. But why is it that the ego is shrouded by a faulty definition of “righteousness” if it is all that I present myself as? And after so many years of acting upon my ego,I have almost lost the ability to differentiate it from myself. But how can such an “alter ego” exist as a separate entity from “myself” (whoever that is) if it’s a part of my daily routines, my mindset, my actions, and essentially, a part of me? There’s the paradox.
So, in the name of my “villainous ego”, I will continue to hide behind my big words. I will refuse to cry, in public or alone, for if I cannot control my emotions, I refuse to allow you to dictate them. I refuse to care, for that is weakness. I refuse to seek help, to seek answers, as help has never benefitted me. I refuse to open up to others as it leaves me empty and alone. After all, I’d rather have the companionship of my ego than the emptiness of being misunderstood, of being a lost cause, of being a “victim” that must be looked after by false love and baseless care.
My ego is real. Care. Care is fake.