Pack up your pride, it’s over
Just how fucking proud do we have to get before we realize pride’s causing all those problems it was meant to keep away?
Pride is what keeps us from apologizing when we fucked up. It’s why we don’t talk to anyone about our problems, cause we’re way too proud to admit we have problems. It’s why we can’t just figure things out, we can’t talk like normal people… though normal is relative, when the decadent is the norm, but that’s not the point.
We just have to fight to have the upper hand, to dominate a relationship, friendship, any kind of interaction at all. We can’t slip up, because if we make mistakes, it makes people respect us less – or so we think. (Well I sure as hell think so, even though I’m convinced it shouldn’t be this way.) So when we do make a mistake, we just can’t convince ourselves to man up, and just say: “Yeah, I was wrong, I’m sorry.” That is only relevant, of course, if we actually believe we’ve fucked up – all too often, our mind convinces itself it wasn’t our fault after all. It was the circumstances, or that other guy over there, and hey, it wasn’t that bad, so stop bitching!
It’s the holy trinity of denying any mistake: not my fault, nothing could be done because of the circumstances, and nothing happened at all. We tell ourselves so many times that we start to believe it. Why? Because we’re proud. We’re so ashamed of making mistakes that we can’t even face ourselves.
But there’s pride on the other side as well. Pride that won’t let you forgive anyone, won’t even let you talk to that guy who fucked up. In a way, this is logical: he’s at fault here, why should you be making an effort? Well, you don’t have to. Unless, of course, that guy – or girl, I’m not discriminating here – actually matters to you. Cause in that case, you’ll just have to battle it out… Does he beg for forgiveness over and over again, throwing his pride away? Or can you put him before your pride and forgive him?
Or maybe you’ll both walk on, having lost someone you cared about, but prouder than ever…
Now listen to this, while I try and find the dialect in which “I’m not mad at you” means “I’m not talking to you again, bitch”.
Dalymar
