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November 05, 2005
The end
In my life, why do I give valuable time...
When you're after truth everything is tainted
before it's begun; you cannot take
a single step in this life.
Ridiculous hopes drain your energy,
waste your time, drag you down,
drop you in traps, twist into bonds,
become a joke, humiliate you.
You battle futility every single day
You hope for friends, allies: they don't come.
When you have so little to go on,
high standards apply; friendship is a serious business.
And every member of the little circles
proves one by one that despite their words
what matters more than truth and real friendship
is the preservation of networking opportunities.
Only yourself to blame for not simply having
presupposed this from the very start.
God forbid any break should be acknowledged
in this smooth surface they value so highly.
Even if repair necessitates paltry, base deception,
petty schemes that shame all their careful words.
They care little enough not to realise
even painful truths would be infinitely preferable.
And laughably affect to have surpassed Nietzsche
though they exemplify his every proposition
with regard to wretched human psychology;
claim to value truth or intelligence
but at the point of decision cleave to the gregarious impulse,
utter cowardice submitting to the gross current of the herd
where big mouths invariably reign.
Then fester in the warmth of the social
which is your only heartfelt principle.
Your conspiratorial silences and little games
hold no interest, I wish only for liberation,
to see others give freely as foolishly as I,
or to be told when I'm wasting my time.
The irony is that a bizarre ostracisation –
(I was never consulted on the arrangement,
did not understand its supposed necessity,
nor even wished invitation to all that it covertly denied me)
– this was occasioned by a solitary protest
against the very same social closure;
an unmasking of the twisted resentment that fuelled it
(restrained for years by lack of courage
and regard for the preservation of social possibilities,
slowly poisoning me and those I love)
Preferring to unpick this sophistic 'reason'
while you hung back muttering, eyes averted.
Do you see how It redoubles itself?
Group will to miserable ease is the strongest.
More than anything, it needs fighting.
But as you wish, let us relate
only as transactors in a market –
one in which I have no interest; consequently
from today I will cease to be a problem.
I foreclose my risible efforts
to take part in your world.
To make this world a smoother place
I'll strive to deaden my enthusiasm
to keep secret what I want to give away.
Yes I am too gullible, too hopeful, a joke.
But I will not submit, you do not kill me.
All that we hope is
When we go
Our skin and our blood and our bones
Won't get in your way
Making you ill
The way they did
When we lived.
There is a place, a place in hell
Reserved for me and my friends
Posted by robin at November 5, 2005 12:18 PM