self-importance

Everyone has a price_, as they say. So let the price on your tag say __RICELESS_ __NVALUABLE_ __RREPLACEABLE_.

He thinks himself rather an exceptional young man, thoroughly sophisticated, well adjusted to his environment, and somewhat more significant than any one else he knows.

Here in Alpha City, we have a common saying: __hat we call __ky_ is merely a figment of our narrative._ The most dreamy-eyed among us seem to adorn themselves and their aspirations in that proverb and you__l see it everywhere: in advertisements on the sides of streetcars and auto-rickshaws, spelled out in studs and rhinestones on designer jackets, emblazoned in the intricate designs of facial tattoos__ven painted on city walls by putrid vandals and inspiring street artists. There is something glorious about kneading out into the doughy firmament the depth and breadth of one__ own universe, in rendering the contours of a sky whose limits are predicated only upon the bounds of one__ own imagination. The fact of the matter is that we cannot see the natural sky at all here. It is something like a theoretical mathematical expression: like the square-root of __egative one___ertainly it could be said to have a purpose for existing, but to cast eyes upon it, in its natural quantity, would be something akin to casting one__ eyes upon the raw elements comprising our everyday sustenance. How many of us have even borne close witness to the minute chemical compounds that react to lend battery power to our portable electronics? The sky is indeed such a concealed fixture now. It is fair to say that we have purged our memories of its true face and so we can only approximate a canvas and project our desires upon it to our heart__ dearest fancy. The most cynical among us would ostensibly declare it an unavoidable tragedy, but perhaps even these hardened individuals could not remember the naked sky well enough to know if what they were missing was something worthwhile. Perhaps, it__ cynical of me to say so! In any case, we have our searchlights pointed upwards and crisscrossing that expanse of heavens as though to make some sensational and profane joke of ourselves to the surrounding universe. We beam already video images of beauty pageants and dancing contests with smiling mannequins who look like buffoons. And so, the face of space cloaks itself behind our light pollution__n this respect, our mirrored sidewalks and lustrous streets do little to help our cause__nd that face remains hidden from us in its jeering ridicule, its mocking laughter at this inexorable farce of human existence.

The role of any person in this world is to be themselves without damaging the rest. We are important as long as the rest "is". - Rossana Condoleo

I find it sad that too many do not understand themselves, or their potential. They don't even take the time to get to know their unconsciousness. You can truly learn so much, by simply getting to know the "you" that is behind the reality of yourself.

A man wrapped up in himself makes a very small parcel.

I feel as though dispossessed from the semblances of some crystalline reality to which I__ grown accustomed, and to some degree, had engaged in as a participant, but to which I had, nevertheless, grown inexplicably irrelevant. But the elements of this phenomenon are now quickly dissolving from memory and being replaced by reverse-engineered Random Access actualizations of junk code/DNA consciousness, the retro-coded catalysts of rogue cellular activity. The steel meshing titters musically and in its song, I hear a forgotten tale of the Interstitial gaps that form pinpoint vortexes at which fibers (quanta, as it were) of Reason come to a standstill, like light on the edge of a Singularity. The gaps, along their ridges, seasonally infected by the incidental wildfires in the collective unconscious substrata.Heat flanks passageways down the Interstices. Wildfires cluster__pread down the base trunk Axon in a definitive roar: hitting branches, flaring out to Dendrites to give rise to this release of the very chemical seeds through which sentience is begotten. Float about the ether, gliding a gentle current, before skimming down, to a skip over the surface of a sea of deep black with glimmering waves. And then, come to a stop, still inanimate and naked before any trespass into the Field, with all its layers that serve to veil. Plunge downward into the trenches. Swim backwards, upstream, and down through these spiraling jets of bubbles. Plummet past the threshold to trace the living history of shadows back to their source virus. And acquire this sense that the viruses as a sample, all of the outlying populations withstanding: they have their own sense of self-importance, too. Their own religion. And they mine their hosts barren with the utilitarian wherewithal that can only be expected of beings with self-preservationist motives.

People who worship only themselves get a slick, polished look -- like monuments. Too bad they had to go so soon.

The day we decide to drop the flimsy makeshift scenarios in our cluttered mind and eschew the __lleluias_ of self-importance, life can become genuine, lucid and graceful, like a flow of wellness in the glow of a new morning. ("Words flew away like birds")

Glory of the world makes life meaningless. Glory of God fulfills it.

For how long will insult hurt a person? For as long as he covets self-importance. For as long as one covets temporary [non eternal] things.

France, stop throwing awards at me! I have so many already, give them to people who need them.

If we glorify God (not self) in everything we do then everything on earth will glorify God.

Yesterday I was clever, so I took the glory for me. Today He makes me wise, so I give the glory to Thee

Whatever we have in the glory of man is "away". Those are just not enough before we go "home" to the glory of God.

Big things in the glory of the world mean nothing. Small things in glory of God mean everything. Truly..., size doesn't matter in this world or in the world to come.

Yesterday i was clever so i took the glory for me. Today HE makes me wise so i give the glory to HIM.

Sweet wine makes drunk, sour wine (insult) is "tetelestai". Life is not about what we have done and become, but how God to be fully glorified.