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The self cannot self-help

A poem on self preservation

By Noah DouglasPublished 4 months ago 2 min read
The self cannot self-help
Photo by nikko macaspac on Unsplash

The foe self-care is that of self-preservation.

It's an oxymoron to believe one's self can be preserved by the being it wishes to protect.


A martyr does not die for himself but rather to protect the belief.

To believe a man can wholly protect himself is in itself a false religion.


Death is the tax no one can avoid.


The only variable we can control is whether we are the walking dead or the peaceful slumberers.

See is the man who lives with the sole focus to not die truly alive?

I say the zombie is freer because at least he is not living in fear.


Pride masks many things including true intentions.


Exploration is all well and good but if you are just doing it because you are scared to look at the monster in the closet you will never be at peace.

Better the man who opens the door and stares the evil one in the face for at least he understands the true cost of living.


If you don't know the currency, how can you meaningfully put chips on the table?

The game is played but other people are dictating the value.

You take risks but don't understand the consequences.


See one cannot self-preserve but rather relinquish control of oneself.


Knowing I am not my own elicits the freedom to do more than the man who believes he is a Messiah.

Because when the gold coins aren't yours you try not to simply bury them in the ground.


Look around and you will see scarcity commonplace amongst those in control.

Whereas abundance is the currency of those who let go of governing their self-existence.


The glass can never be full if you keep getting a bigger glass.


And when the endless toil is fully understood then comes the pious negativity.

For it is easier to stay in your ways than ask for forgiveness.


It's no wonder the world's success metric is devoid of feelings, passion, or truth.

Self-indulgent hustle became the socially acceptable drug.

Then somehow we are surprised by our depressed nation.


So the question we are left with is a simple one.

Do we ignore the tax man or allow death to shape life in abundance rather than scarcity?

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About the Creator

Noah Douglas

Perpetually curious.

Journeyman of faith†

Runner, writer, marketer.

Some of my other work ↓


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