In ‘Move’, I was originally going to write about life being unpredictable. At the time, I made a prediction that fulfilled itself in a way that I simply didn’t expect. It got an empty laugh out of me. I tend to assume the worst, so I’d be happy if my own assumptions were wrong.
Unfortunately, the process may change but the outcome was the same. Envy truly is an ugly emotion, and it seems that my knowledge only fuels it. If I could purge a single vice from myself, then it’d be that.
In my eyes, it’s one of the most insidious emotions. Unlike jealousy or other vices like pride and wrath, it moves silently. With fear, I’ve denied it’s power entirely. With envy, I denied it’s existence.
To let it persist is a sin by itself, one that stains my entire being. I cannot afford to open even a crack, lest it merge with my judgement and more sensible faculties– to poison one is to poison them all.
In the past, I said that I hold an obligation to recognize every part of myself– to neither love nor hate it. I cannot stand on my virtues while ignoring the shadows of my vice, and so I accepted this.
It seems that I’ve to amend this, as some parts must be shown the door– letting them stay would be a burden to the host that is me. I cannot be proud of my virtues if I let my sins bask in their light, treating them as if they’ve done me and others no harm.
And so, let this envy lose it’s splendor. For it is unbecoming of any sane man to covet the cards of another, to subvert the natural order by punishing a man for their due dividends. It’s not as if I don’t have my own cards and deck.
There’s another quality of mines that needs mentioning, and that is my pride. I am a prideful man when it comes to myself, one that may be the death of me– yet I still claim it as mine. For what is a man, if they lack pride in the slightest?
It is my right, like that of any other man– to define and control my internal self. I’d be damned if I were to let another to intrude. Dead or alive, I am mine to keep.
Most of my prides resides in myself alone, so you’ll find that I tend to be more humble than prideful when it comes to people. They say that ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves, and so I’ve inverted it’s meaning.
To be ruthless to oneself is to be merciful to others. I may be prideful, but I am human. To be ruthless to others is to be ruthless towards myself. Spears have no eyes and my hands can feel the recoil from each thrust.
This may sound a bit arrogant, but I believe it is another obligation for me to act so– one ordained by both my heart and by divine commandment. I know not of the faith of others, my faith burns brightly. And it is this flame that commands me so, one that speaks of mercy and restraint.
Let it be clear that I don’t recognize myself as a saint, nor a paragon of virtue. I may love the righteous, but I am not one of them.
As my internal world consists of myself, my pride and mercy can be traced back to the mandate of stewardship. I lay claim to all that I am responsible for, my world of buildings a part of this domain. A temple in which this flame rests, a brazier preserving it until this world dies.
A library of all that I’ve done, all that I’ve haven’t. A court that I make regular visits to, an assembly that legislates meaning and reason, and an office that executes it all. I’ve built much and there is more to built.
After everything has been said and done, is this mantle not mine? And so it is my imperative to see it to the end. Now this, this is what I claim as my pride– the pride laden in ‘Move’. I recognize my hubris rightly so, thus making this pride a virtue rather than vice.
It feels good to write like this again after realizing that I don’t have to worry about public reception. After all, I’m nobody– meaning that people will just take a single glance and move on. Being nothing is a comforting notion, dare I say a liberating one.
Ofcourse, it’s a pragmatic attitude since I can’t always be so candid or quiet. Life isn’t static nor am I, so it’d be a fool’s folly to not adapt to the times.
Some of my greatest ideas hit me only after I’ve been enlightened. Black History Month reminded me about Martin Luther King Jr. If I remembered earlier, I would’ve written on his ideas and pay a tribute to him in ‘Dreams’.
Another regret for me to add unto the book. ‘Move’ was meant to be a bittersweet essay, one with wit and lightness. Instead, I’ve done it again– invoking my normal tone. I do like this tone, as it’s heavy enough to outweigh sentiments– but I can’t use it all of the time.
I’d lighten this weight but most of my topics are heavy. To discard this weight is no different from crippling them, for this weight is it’s definition. I feel like I can joke with anything else except for my writings, so there’s no escaping this.
Author’s note:
I feel like I’m being narcissistic when I write sometimes. I know that I’m not embellishing anything, nor am I placing myself above others. Confidence and love are two separate concepts, and it’d do us both a favour to remember this distinction.
You can be confident in a person regardless of your thoughts of them, and you can never stop doubting a person– even if they’ve already won your heart. It’s interesting how people tie those two concepts together as if they’re one.
As narcissism is an obsessive form of love directed towards oneself, so I know that I’m not a narcissist. Heavens know of what I think of myself.
I don’t really have anything else to write here, as I’ve already written here or have plans for the future. I think the most positive/nicest essay that I’ve wrote so far was ‘Fives’, it’s one of the exceptions in my writing. I like that feeling of being nice.
As always, congratulations on reaching the end of this essay.