The Plastic Emotional Addiction of Self-Vested Drama
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When one is born into this level of existence/dimension, he is born completely enveloped in innocence. Children, for a short while, possess true innocence. They are happy with whatever state they find themselves in.
Not only are they equipped with the power of virtue and authenticity as their abiding rite of passage, but operate in this incorruptibility until daunted by the reality and superimposed needs and desires of the adult basic survival instincts.
Unfortunately, when this happens, the innocent child quickly learns to manipulate others to bring forth what he feels is necessary to continue his sustenance while at the same time pleasing and entertaining the adults who are in charge of his upbringing.
When hungry, he learns to cry. When cold, he learns to project guilt onto the one who is supposed to be responsible for caring for him. When bored, he identifies so succinctly with his environment that a certain level of misery is reflected, established and maintained until conditions change in accordance with his self-indulgent desires.
In other words, he begins the long arduous self-defeating journey of throwing himself away. He exchanges much of his true self-worth for instant pleasure and gratification. He is easily bought with the lash of tongue or a handful of change.
Never once does he imagine that he was born a King with full-inherited benefits of the throne.
More importantly he is never informed that his celestial kingdom is located on earth instead of heaven. He has inadvertently learned that heaven is a far away place where God is supposed to reside.
Of course, no one ever bothers to state that if god is so far away, how on earth is he suppose to contact and relate to him, except by/through the inside of his own nature? That just may fall in the parmeters of "the knigdom of god within".
But, he is so caught up in the mind rendering games of ‘staying in control’ and 'staying ahead' of tohers that his otherwise fruitful and productive life is forfeited for a fallaciously flawed stumbling existence full of resentment, bitterness,competition, comparison, and remorse.
He seeks outside of himself for those things that easily turn to maggot rot and those things that do nothing but corrupt and corrode the guileless experience of his unblemished soul.
Money lures him because of the importance and vital significance adults attached to it while growing up. Worldly Prestige and Academic Knowledge call his name. Power and Authority whip him into adroit submission. He deems, no matter what the costs: “He’s gonna make something of himself.”
When the artist is rendered hopelessly helpless from his birth on, it is such a pitiful shame to watch. To observe a child diminish himself by and through his parents, environment and the specific influential carvings of early life causes one to flinch.
Especially knowing that his true identify can never emerge sufficiently as long as he clings to/in the mud. What is he to do to rectify the awful debilitating situation?
Stop invested caring. If and when he ever reaches that point in his life where he refuses to continue the nonsensical superficially glossed over way of supposed nicety prepared for him by those who preceded him, then and only then can he begin to breathe.
No longer will he seek or covet the approval, love, acceptance, validation or self-worth from or through the eyes of another. He will roar prolifically at the very thought of being domesticated unwillingly.
The end of self-sabotaging relationships will be well within his grasp. He will discover and be forever freed from the suffocating libel neck chained self-deceit pacifier. The incorrigible lie of self-preserved comfort will be exposed.
He must never consider others before himself. He does not have to stay involved or continue to love those who try to make him feel guilty, obligated or grateful. He will vest himself, time, energy and effort in what he wants and no more.
He will do what he does for no reason of security or to prevent him from the fear associated with the idea of ending up alone. Alone, hellfire? How much more alone can one be than to forsake himself?
He must be in full possession of himself before he can possibly care for another unselfishly and completely.
As long as he believes that someone outside of himself can help or hinder him, he is paralyzed. Liberated, he will refuse to view his life as a series of unfortunate circumstances that have robbed him of anything. Experience has proven to be invaluable and verifiably validly cleansing.
Fortunate is the one who realizes with committed zeal how celestially free he is and has always been. What would be truly unfortunate would be the available knowledge of his not wanting to break away from the addictive hold others have on him.
The real addiction is to the drama he requires as he upholds the plastic need to feel necessary, important and special. Sooner or later, he will snap, warp or melt. Plastic always does.