Selfish

Lately have I pondered what drives an individual to selfish acts and thoughts. Whether it is due to basic deprivation of needs at some point in their lives, or an expectation that past luxuries will continue despite changes in circumstances. Or even if it comes from a perception of entitlement, that one’s own difficulties may be counted as currency for current comfort.

The individual I cite most often as displaying this behavior is Viere. But as I speak to and learn of others’ experiences it seems that this is not an anomalous case. For the purpose here, I will not compare or measure the relative amount of suffering between myself and others due to selfishness. I seek to understand why it exists at all. What selfishness is to me is a willingness to harm or take from others in order to benefit only oneself.

As creatures of the world we strive for survival. Resources are finite and competition prompts combat or intrigue in order to ensure one’s existence over another’s. In the case of strangers, this does not seem evil. It is animalistic and instinctive. But between individuals that are acquainted or invested, even supposedly in love with each other, it becomes less justifiable.

Why would a man thrash his lover when she asked him to cease? Why would another man kill his wife and then sew her together again? This is not confined to men of course; women can be just as cruel. But what threat do the victims pose to their survival? Are they cowards? Do they wish to not lose this person’s affection and company and so keep them subdued through force and artificiality? I refuse to accept that they are simply “evil,” for there is no instruction in that.

When I think of Viere, I must conclude that for him it was due to his sense of loss. A loss of control. His life and powers were taken by disease and death, and the way he felt powerful and safe was to take it back. To regain all the vestiges of life by stealing it from others.

So he surrounded himself with all the appearance of opulence and decadence at the expense of the self-determination of those who served him. So often did he emphasize to me that my life was a gift, from him, and that my devotion and obedience were not a heavy price. I suppose he thought that he was saving me. My existence was an expression of his power over death, when death had already taken everything from him. Including ultimately, I believe, his sanity.

For now I have filled too many pages with ink on this subject. But I do hope that despite circumstances I do not demonstrate similar failings.