“Philosophy cannot soothe my soul, but in the mirror the Truth will be known…”
No matter how many brilliant ideas I eloquently express, and no matter how many uniquely profound Truths I reveal to the universe in intricate detail, and bathe Myself within, I remain a savage brute. I remain a reflection of destruction. Because I was destroyed, and the mirror never lies.
In the beginning there was a helpless child who knew nothing. Then he knew fear and pain and abuse and trauma and victimization and terror and deception and cruelty. And so he learned to hate and to harm, to dissect and to stalk and to feed on the fear of others. And still later he learned to love himself and to make himself untouchable and to understand why every other child is destroyed as he was destroyed, and to express the Truth, and to become a philosopher, and to reject his humanity, and to transcend his humanity.
But the mirror always and still reflects, and always he goes back to the beginning.
Once a victim, always a victim. Memories, blood-coated memories, of the way we were.
And so the tortured child comes home, day after day, decades later. He comes home to his isolated little fortress, shedding the horrific burden of forced human interaction, slave labor extracted under threat of hunger and homelessness. His hate lives and breathes and rejoices in being part of him, nurturing him.
And so comes decision time. What to do for the next two or three hours, until it is time to sleep, to dream, to destroy. What to do? Write another uniquely brilliant essay of Mind Bomb Truth for 10 humans to savor, as the other 7.5 billion remain oblivious? Or just immerse all of My consciousness within the glory of sadistic rage and hate?
Well, today I choose the latter, but at least I bring you folks along for the ride.
Enjoy the song, allow it to make love to your shattered mirror, as I do.
Thousands of times I listen to this song, because within it, I am all I will ever be.
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