And next, to integrate myself? To become one with the masses, the great streaming electric void of them, to become like them and to rush onward with them?
The thought is frightful- I can never be so vulgar and so apathetic and so thoroughly sap-minded and lazy that i should torture a nerve into the artificial state of optimism, that i could force myself into sociability, betray myself into those old stinking traps again and again..
Because a part of my heart is missing, and i can only see the vistas blankly, as cold as ice, ever-betrayed by my own squeamishness and lack of trust.
In every beat then, what waits? Noose, blade, to topple off a bridge, to choke myself with poisons?... An attempt to nullify a blank state, which is already fully nullified, so that the stretch of life surpasses even death. Don't protest! I feel that it is so.
... The Ultimate Failure of the Grand Plan.