There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.
Words from Oscar Wilde’s “The Picture of Dorian Gray” that just endorse my theory of self-deprication being better than someone else pointing fingers and berating one self.
The idea is, if X is a loser, it is better he admits to it himself rather than have anyone else point fingers and say that to him. Dulls the pain.
Self realization just takes one that much closer to enlightenment.
