If I had more time, I would spit on your shoes! And how you would weep and speak as if this were your truth.
–“How I’ve been disrespected! How my life has spiraled to nothing! Pity oh pity! Why does this man spit on my shoes? It is that I am rotten and therefore I shall have deserved this –but then why? Why do I deserve this heavens above!
I wake and feel sorrow.
I taste food and see maggots.
Everything I touch spoils, but only because Everything is already spoiled.
There is no changing! And so I weep. But would I end my own life –but even this I have no choice. The hand of fate has dealt –and where I receive two aces, I see only ones.
Spoil with me lover! This wretched world of mine –for punishment is all I have a taste for –and I would never see anything as truly mine.’
And to these wretched ones I say!
That I am more wretched still! Look at how I place, all the blame upon you!
No, but that can’t be right. For I have projected my want –that nothing should stay the same.
Stand still –you never are capable of grasping life, for life to you lives in rotten graves. And is it not this grave you walk over and tend to each day? But then can’t you see, that it is your sorrow that you tend to too?
Does a beggar not long for food?
Then why do you –not long for good air?
For can’t you see –that life is dead?
So why not go tend –to something alive?
What do you wish –to resurrect the dead?
But then I see your play! –You wish to resurrect yourself.
In tending to death –you seek to overcome yours!
You selfish sorrow! You pitiless pity! You would seek to drag –everyone to the grave you tend, that is your own!
You wish to stuff them there too –if only they would come closer.
But no one cares for your grave, so you wait to fall in it.
And when that day comes –I will laugh and weep too!
That you ultimately found that which you adored:
the surest fate, the most absolute, that we will all die –and your grave you tend for yourself first.
This I find a careless mistake. But tell me, would you believe in fate too?