Austerity

I am hungry but the thought of food brings about a feeling of disgust. I am lonely but the idea of company elicits irritation and resentment. I am bored but the thought of taking part in inconsequential activities creates a sense of guilt. Inside there is a hunger for comfort and pleasures but at the same time there is a force that rejects the notion, a force that shames and punishes me for indulgence. I’m sure if I were to express this to a therapist they would attribute it to poor self esteem and paint it as an act of self destruction, but that could not be further from the truth. I love myself more than anything. I am the only thing in the world that I am absolutely certain that I love. And how could I not love myself? It was myself and myself solely that saw more than a worthless, burdensome wretch in me. It was myself that comforted me in times of immense loneliness and alienation. It is only myself that will assist me with pure intent.  It is only myself that will bring my ambitions to fruition no matter the molesting ridicule and scrutiny of the world around me. Discomfort is misery – but it is a necessary misery, for to indulge in pleasure is to open the human heart to folly. And I cannot afford to waste any time. Pleasure is a surrogate for progress. Pleasure is a temptation – a temptation that is dwarfed by my resolve. Discomfort is the driving mechanism by which I will accomplish my desires, it is a means to an end. Happiness is a distraction from the satisfaction and pride that awaits, and so I reject it.