How oft I see what isn’t there,
Projected from my restless mind;
But it’s the same way everywhere —
What we want most, we always find
And claim that others, too, must see.
What vanity demands – requires –
Is confirmation, loud, that we
Have seen those truths, not our
Desires
Behold, the strange self-argument
In which the subject tries
To tell himself or herself
Various and sundry lies
Which work. And so depression grows
Through what we say, then do:
And we persuade ourselves with words
That we know are not true
We need no classes teaching us
To justify our selfishness.
A thing we know instinctively;
And do, without reluctancy.
We’ll think up reasons later why
That no one else should ever quail,
For what we want is always good
Because we want it. End of tale.
