Every so often I read something on twitter which infuriates me, filling me with horror and revulsion. I long for the power to remove such wretched souls, deleting the parasitic blight. However, I know that is not my path. Reveling in rage only fills me with misery. I seek the right response, though, one which shows them the destruction they wreck. Perhaps, someday, such shall be found. Until then, the best I see is to act with kindness to their victims.
Driving along in Kirkland , home of the modern yuppie, I’m passed by a new Mercedes. Lovely, silver, shiny, new, bling-bling; a part of me loaded with insecurity twinges while I purr along in my Toyota. Why? How come this is a metric of my self-esteem? Am I being unfair to myself, being upset by this train of thought and it’s influence? Consider, please, how much this viewpoint is drilled into us. Look at how often this imagery gets pushed into our faces, and how long that’s been going on. It shouldn’t surprise me, really, that I sometimes feel this way. Though my conscious values oppose this, the lingering thread of this programming has threads into the depths psyche.
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