The Misunderstanding of Reality
I am not explaining this to you so that you can understand me, because there is nothing to understand. Not even to beg for a little empathy, or to “give explanations” as they say. I can’t stand people who “give explanations”, because victims and executioners, today, here, in front of me and in your house, are mixed so subtly and so naturally that it is impossible to separate one from the other.
I don’t really care what you think, “thinking makes a donkey” the farmers of my town used to say. It makes absolutely no difference to me which part of you you admire, because I know that the instinct of survival compels you to adorn with flowers and garlands the image of who you really are. And I’d love, I admit, to see your little regrets regurgitated between the sheets whispering names and specific dates to you before going to sleep.
The Duality of Existence
Evil and good do not exist. I know I’ve ruined the lives of individuals I don’t know, and will never know, I know that someone somewhere very remote in any geography has made me the luckiest man in the neighborhood. This is how everything is transmitted, without order or concert, without any will to do evil or good, because neither evil nor good exist, did you understand that right, boy?
This was the question the mayor kept repeating to me as he grabbed me by the neck. Did you get it, boy, or am I repeating it to you more and more little by little?
We had waited patiently all night. “Don’t worry, it’s not your responsibility. First thing tomorrow, I want you to break my face.” And I was obedient, you would have been too.
The Reality of Actions
And I punched him and elbowed him and when the brown blood ran down his cheeks and the little girl started to scream, we fled in the badly parked car while the mayor’s injuries were immortalized on all the television screens. country You wouldn’t give explanations either, he won the election he had to win, I won the sealed envelope I had to win and now you, who always lose and only complain, will have another good excuse ready at the altar of moral superiority while carrying on with these insignificant lives of old.