I have studied the art of being better. And I have practiced the sport of being worse. To get better, I have learned you must accept what you hate with love, a necessity, and thankfulness. And to get worse, instead vanquish what you hate with muscle, and attempt to banish it–––overpower it–––make it (for some period of transience) seem to disappear. Call it your bitch if you must have to, and then toil to make it somehow learn that impossible lesson. You are not this powerful. And thank God for that matter that nobody is. But who you hate is not so much a loser. Who you hate is much more so uninsightful of the truth in the goodness that is you. He just doesn’t know you. Just like you just don’t know him.

If to be misunderstood is to simply be anyone, the tension in your connection is the fear that you have found in knowing you were found by him already–––permanently wrong. Not everyone in your life will be on your level. And you could stand somewhere beneath his own, for all that you may truly know about him and of how good or bad he truly is. Finding superiority over anyone is a pursuit of ignorance. People do improve. People do get better. And therefore people can always be what they are, which is worse than others and then also better than some. Spirits evolve with time, the levels are real, the gods are superior, and human immortality, even when figured in with reincarnation, all but assures this. This is all indeed very true.

But to actually know who’s better inside our common predicament is to know too much. That’s literally God’s work. That’s the domain of His knowledge. His judgments determine our fates. It’s not for us to know here on Earth through our judgments as people who see but little–––far much short of everything. So be thankful that you know nothing of its truth. And before you self-delude to forming premature beliefs described as moving on, attempt first to solve him while he’s here remaining with you, or else succumb to becoming haunted by the people who you have determined suck. Because if you live to prove him wrong, you’re wrong to prove he no longer lives.