That Wild Beast Which Lives

There Is No Rule Without Revolts And Conspiracies, Even As There Is No Property Without Work And Worry.

It Seems To Me, That If People Only Knew How Hard It Was For Me To Endure Life, They Would Find It Easier To Forgive Me For All The Wrong Things I’ve Done And All The Good Things That I Have Failed To Do. And They Would Still Find A Little Compassion Within Them To Pity Me.

There Comes A Time When A Man Finds Himself In Front Of A Dark Uncrossable Abyss, Which He Himself Has Spent Years Digging. He Cannot Go Forward, And Has No Way Back. Words Have Failed, Tears Won't Help, And Who Would He Call Out To? He Can't Even Remember His Own Name. Then The Man Sees That On This God's Green Earth There Is But One True Suffering: The Torment Of Guilty Conscience.

What Can And Doesn't Have To Be Always, At The End, Surrenders To Something That Has To Be.

They Entered There Into The Unconscious Philosophy Of The Town; That Life Was An Incomprehensible Marvel, Since It Was Incessantly Wasted And Spent, Yet None The Less It Lasted And Endured 'like The Bridge On The Drina'.