Is there something wrong with us – or right with us? Are we lacking something, or have we found something? Is there something missing, in our lives? Or have we found something that’s more than life.
Are we scholars because we hate life? Because we’ve been driven inwards from life? Introverts. Or is it because we’ve discovered something? Something better than life?
What’s wrong with us? What’s so very wrong? Do other people feel this wrong, too? Is it only us? Like there’s something wrong with our existence. No – like our existence itself is fundamentally wrong.
What’s the opposite of election? Being cursed, maybe. Is that what we are – cursed? Damned? Who damned us? Who selected us to be damned? What’s so special about us? Nothing special. There’s nothing special about our fuckedupness either.
Work in Progress 