More then ever I think the person I loathe and fear the most is myself.

If I ever stopped hating and degrading myself enough to realize how beautiful of a creation I am...I might actually stop with the abuse, the rampant digestion of impulse...I might actually begin to realize I am not the God I make myself.

It is so pitifully ironic.

By hating myself and placing myself as being such an absolute worthless amount of scum,I am in fact setting myself up as the king of my world, the prince of my ego and the sole being of any importance in this world.

I am me and me is I, if that makes sense but at the end of the day I am an odd mixture of temporal organic matter and eternal ethereal soul. Nothing and everything about my actions will last and ring out through eternity and across this wasteland we commonly, yet incorrectly, think of as our home.

Nothing is more eternal then the prejudices we set up against ourselves and those around us, they exist eternally because of how invisible the thoughts and habits become. These habitual thoughts of disdain flow under the radar and consume the self until the personal ego becomes first and foremost, in and of itself in a sort of totality way.