Praise:
The say self praise is no praise. Please. Let’s be real. Often times, the hardest person to please is your self. It is not the critics. They can be rationalized and/or dismissed. But it is you, you who sit down labouring over every brush stroke, every word, every line spoken… YOU are in fact the enemy of your soul. And then there’s the other guy, but let’s forget him for now shall we? The problem with mankind is that to accept that you are proficient at what you do or that you are good at who you are is to imply arrogance. And arrogance unlike VISA y MASTERCARD is not accepted everywhere. Therefore the artist, the creative, the logician, the philosopher, the film maker, the designer, the blogger and the banker contracts within themselves, for there is always a fault with self. And even if some external force should applaud, all thanks are defaulted, as you cannot come to full terms with the genius you may yet be. Foolishness isn’t it?
Now as a theist, I [quite like every rapper and Justin Beiber] tend to ascribe thanks to God for every bit of good that is within me. But you have to understand that if YOU didn’t take the idea and run with it, if YOU didn’t craft that song or that artwork; if YOU didn’t study till the early hours of the next day, YOU would not move forward in life. God is Love but the pen is yours. And as my friend’s clothing lines states, “like yuhself”. Please do.
Now as a theist, I [quite like every rapper and Justin Beiber] tend to ascribe thanks to God for every bit of good that is within me. But you have to understand that if YOU didn’t take the idea and run with it, if YOU didn’t craft that song or that artwork; if YOU didn’t study till the early hours of the next day, YOU would not move forward in life. God is Love but the pen is yours. And as my friend’s clothing lines states, “like yuhself”. Please do.
Pity:
My family doesn’t drink certain types of tea. These include “sympatea” and “selphpitea”. My mother would be in grave pain but she really doesn’t need your sympathy – she needs a resolution of it. The Hutchings clan doesn’t believe much in self-pity either. You feel sad; you get depressed beyond all things and then you say, “this is ass” and just as quickly, you pick yourself up, wash your face and move on. Or else, bury it.
Recently though as I was bemoaning the state of my existence I realized a very real truth. Sometimes only you who can take/have pity on yourself. Who else will do it for you?
We live in a world where people are genuinely troubled; who has time for your shit? Or else – if you are surrounded by people who DO give a damn, you may not feel comfortable laying your crap next to theirs. Self pity is not a bad thing. And it’s cheaper too. If you cannot afford your self pity Astra Zeneca may be able to help.
The key for both states is simply, Do NOT wallow in it.
And… yeah I’m out.
Pax
Tracy J H
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