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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Life an egoist discusses about the constant confrontations of an egoist which the perturbing issues of life.

Submitted: November 05, 2016

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Submitted: November 05, 2016




Since the inception of this riddled life, I used to think why these brutal things that I don’t deserve keep on happening with me. It took me couple of years to realize the real reasons behind my sufferings. Eventually, when I started getting answers, the things started making sense. The pain never actually smoothened  but they did started making sense. I realized that the twenty percent of the problems of my life were created by the people and circumstances around me but the rest eighty percent of them were my own unyielding cultivation.

The problems were apparent, I could see them with my bare eyes. I even knew the solutions and would have applied them, had I not been the person I am. Yes, the person I am, an Egoist and I have the issues that confront every egoist.

I am not the completely self-sabotaging, Howard Roark, the hypothetical fountainhead of ego, but the one who survives in this 21st century world and garnishes herself with a pinch of cynicism and sadism every now and then.

When I was a kid, I craved for parental love and care, in my case it came from school achievements. I tried to do that, but constantly failed.  I thought achieving this would make me happy and content. The self- absorbed, self-centered viciousness was somewhere concealed or I was too dumb to realize the vagueness of happiness which I was seeking in others. I would not go much into the entire transformations details at this stage.

Like everyone else I grew up, but unlike others it was too quick. The sense of superiority was always there.  Just that it was little clouded because of  my childish demeanors and suppressed under the pile of guilt and criticism. I would not say that the time has changed but I have definitely crossed a hurdle, a hurdle that was counteracting me from accepting the real me and the ego I have been bestowed upon.  I call it a gift as my ego is the only thing I feed on. I thrive and survive on my ego. My ego has not made me immune to criticism but has certainly made me immune to the failures as they come  seldomly and when they do , they go ungreeted. My ego has not made me perfect but has certainly given me superiority. The chants of “I am the best” never leaves my ears and my head.  It has made me accept myself and cherish my existence. But, this same ego has done few things that this world would consider degradations.  

The ego that I possessed has definitely counteracted failures to a great extent but has also diminished my participations. Many times, I know for the fact that I am better than those undeserving clowns who are performing and getting applauded, but despite that I am scared to step in. I prefer to let many of these opportunities go. The reason is that doing the particular  thing  would make the world think that I want to be a part of their glittering show and that is when it hurts. I am an egoist, I cannot carve to be a part a something, I already am not. I am an egoist, I can’t let the world look at me as someone gawking for a chance. I am an egoist, I can’t make myself vulnerable in front of others.

The line between the act and the wants of an egoist is exceptionally blurred and at times, poles wide. We don’t live to make ourselves happy but to satisfy our ego. Putting it precisely, we don’t live life but we fight it.

When I see someone half brainy as me at ten years of age, succeeding over me, I laugh. I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt but it definitely doesn’t make me doubt my credentials.  I don’t know the reasons behind the defeat and never actually tried to find out because an egoist would never do it. Does that mean I am above success or failure? Judging from my experience I would say ‘yes’’.

My every folly makes me despise the unworthiness of people judging me and people competing against me.  I may not be happy in my life. I may not be sorted in my life. I may never have a normal and sorted life with clear means and end. But do I want that life? No. I would always prefer to be a miserable egoist than a predictable and compromising somebody.

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