*Look at us, we’re a conspiracy. Of two. Just the pair of us. We’re going to set the world on fire.
Do you think?
We’re going to die a love death. We’ll be one of those couples who commit suicide. Who are bad – very bad for each other. Can’t you tell?
Let’s kill ourselves. A suicide pact? A love death. That’s what they’re called, isn’t it? We’ll be together in death. Except we won’t even reach death, will we? Where death is, I am not. Where you are, death can’t be. You never actually die. Which means you can never actually die. In the first person. You don’t have the power to kill yourself.
So you can’t just throw yourself off the mezzanine?
I don’t actually think it’s a far enough drop? It’d just leave us with life changing injuries? That would be a flop, wouldn’t it?
We’re both mad, aren’t we? And we’re going to increase each other’s madness. Multiply it.
And then the towers will fall down.
Do you think?
The campus – which can’t burn, because it’s all glass and steel – will burn anyway. A cold flame, like the northern lights, or something. But it’ll burn.
Here, at the heart of the Organisational Management campus … it all begins again. We’ve been given a chance. Somehow or other. Another chance … because we’ve been gasping for … something.
Would I like to be a comet? Yes. for they have the speed of birds, they flourish in fire and are as children in purity.
Who said that?
Hölderlin.
Hölderlin’s pretty fucking cool.
*No one talks of these things in Organisational Management. We have to whisper it. Whisper it, philosopher. Say forbidden things. Here, tonight. Whisper them to me …
Work in Progress 