Just like the junkie feeds a never-ending addiction to the needle, the ego feeds on pride. Pride is the ego’s most magnificent realm.
I say pride is the ego’s most magnificent realm, but even so, it is so ugly. Pride is fake eyelashes, plastic surgery, expensive clothing and fast cars. Pride is the desperate imitation of the pages of a magazine even at the expense of alienating yourself from other people. Pride is buying a bigger house and insisting on giving a tour. Pride is pressuring your children to be the best in their class. Pride is believing you are amazing, your marriage is amazing, your children are amazing, and even the city you live in is somehow amazing and superior to all other cities that have ever existed (perhaps for the simple reason that you live there).
Pride is that sense of satisfaction you get watching others embarrass themselves on reality TV. Pride is believing your political movement is right and your cause is the most important cause. Pride is believing in your church or religion while rejecting all others. Pride is in that momentary feeling that your life is perfect because of how it looks on Instagram. Pride has nothing at all to do with love.
Pride can be ugly, but sometimes pride can be sexy in a perverted sort of way. Pride is that hot girl that everyone simultaneously desires and hates. Pride is that rich, handsome man flying across NYC in a helicopter who every greedy gold-digger wants to marry. Pride is seduction. Pride is believing that you are more of a man because you are juggling several beautiful women at once. Pride is an expensive, explosive, yet momentary and fleeting pleasure. Pride is fast cars, diamond rings, VIP lounges and dirty sex.
Ego first seduces you with fear, then it incentivizes you with the pleasures of pride. Like a drug, the pleasures of pride are intense and then vanish in an instant—leaving you with a painful hangover.