Here’s a funny word: Ego. Everyone’s trying hard to keep theirs in check, and trying harder to rub it in everybody’s else’s face to keep theirs in check. It’s a match of  “ye dare not be prouder than me.”

Here’s the thing. That’s not how it works.

In a perfect world, everyone’s free of ego, and all men and women are equal, created from the same image of a singular God, and humbled by their minuteness in the ever-expanding cosmos. But all are not equal. Some have bigger dicks than others, and I presume that’s how the competition began, way back in the neanderthalic ages, when men hunted boars, and women kept them company in bed (the men, not the boars), and lit their fires, and did other household stuff, such as washing their loincloths, gossiping at the water-hole (which was literally a water hole back in those days), and talking amongst themselves while watching out for sporadic dinosaur attacks, or rival tribe invasions.

I am not better than you. Nor you are than me. But it is not as simple as that. I am more famous than you, or more renowned in some sense, and you are not. And that makes you think that I am reflecting my fame onto my personality, which I might be, and that makes you feel that I am being haughty, while deep down, I might not have that intention. The way I talk, or the amount of time I give to you might set that notion deeper in you.

And then you rub it in my face once, twice, thrice and then four times. Guess who is being egoistic now?

No. Let’s say I’m the cool kid on the block, who hangs by the coffeehouse (or wherever cool kids hang out) and does cool things (like natas flips on my skateboard, or backflips in the basketball court) and then gets admiration from his peers. You perceive that said admiration is making me get in over my head with my faux fame. And then you diagnose that I’m haughty on the sole observation about my mingling and stuff.

Maybe you live a shitty life. Maybe your life sucks. I’m sorry, but that’s not up to me. That’s up to the strings of fate and the hands that dole out destiny. This doesn’t give you a right to become a dog in the manger with everyone else’s happiness or feeling of contentment. “If I’m not happy, no one can be happy”

Maybe we’re not well suited to continue our relationship — be it a friendship, an emotional relation, a romantic one, or even an acquainting one — and if you feel so suffocated by the girth of my cock, and the size of my balls, maybe get yourself a new pal who’s got an average dick and balls, the one you like to caress and play around with, but not seriously consider having sex with. The friendzoned pubes.

You can’t expect a dervish and a cleric to have the same level of ego. One’s free of the world and all its ailments, and is devoted to God, while the other’s immersed in the world and hellbent on making it a place that idolizes the concept of God while acknowledging the cleric to be a man of great knowledge. He is not a great man of knowledge. The cleric’s too taken with the rules of the game to seriously consider the game itself. He’s that fucked-in-the-head dungeon master who doesn’t let the players have any fun. He’s like, follow that line, follow this line, and if you shan’t, hell waits for you heathens.

He’s the guy who has the ego bug stuck up his ass. He’s the one who thinks that the world revolves around him. He thinks that only he has a true understanding of religion, while in truth, the streets are littered with the likes of him, self-proclaimed overseers of religion with delusions of grandeur and heavenly rewards.

Where’s the fun in rolling the dice if you don’t know why and what for you’re rolling it? Why pray to God five times a day if you don’t know the bounties of prayer, the true bounties, and not just the virtue points that you amass. True bounties like the sense of satisfaction, a trouble free, depressionless life, and unhindered sleep?

Ego get’s everyone’s panties, titties and balls in a bunch. It’s what makes other girls jealous of the prom queen, its what makes the nerds hate the jocks and vice versa, its the reason why politics are politics in the first place, its one of the reasons wars used to be waged, and are still waged, and will be waged for times to come, it’s the reason you don’t like your father, or your mother, or your brother, or other brother, or sister, or teacher, or uncle, or aunt. It’s the reason racism exists, the reason people commit suicide, the reason why drugs are the epidemic they are, the reason penis enlargement creams sell so much despite everyone knowing that they’re not real solutions, the reason there’s an economic divide, a religious divide, a political divide, and every other kind of divide. It’s the reason why we hate each other, and why we break up with each other… and other shit.

It’s a good thing too, you know. It sparks competition, healthy rivalry, a drive to be forward, a drive to innovate, a drive to be better than the man you were yesterday, a will to thrive, and a will to succeed. Had it not been for the ego of a couple of million muslims, Pakistan would never have been built. That dude who came up with the formula for Benzene wouldn’t have done so. Stephen King wouldn’t have written his first novel, or wouldn’t have written at all. I’m pretty sure you can think of another example or two. Or maybe more.

to be continued…

you’re all important, and I am too. But please, in the midst of realizing your self, don’t be rude. And if you’re rude, boo hoo. It mean’s you’re ignorant. With power comes responsibility, with knowledge comes the freedom from bearing the weight of ego.