Hoping that we could stay in the background. That years would pass without anyone thinking of us. That we could just get on with business – philosophy business.
Wasn’t that enough to ask? Why did we have to be moved anywhere? Why did we have to be noticed? Why did we have to be exposed to the light – to their dreadful light?
Why did we have to be subject to their ideas? To their plans for us?
What did we do wrong? What sin did we commit? What error did we make? How did we slip up? Weren’t we careful enough? Weren’t we untroublesome enough?
We wanted to sit it all out. We wanted to escape. We wanted to survive – that’s all. To go on as we were, for a few years at least. We wanted time to … recover. To recuperate. From all our difficult years. From all our ravaged years. From all our years out there.
We wanted to lay down our heads. We wanted to close our eyes for a few years, nothing more. Couldn’t we have been allowed that? Couldn’t we have been allowed a few years of ordinary life?
Of course, that wasn’t allowed.
Our persecution. Why us, why now?
The injustice of it. The randomness of it. What had we done that’s so terrible? What mistakes were we supposed to have made?
Our misfortune. What curse was placed upon us? Weren’t we meek enough? Accepting enough? Compliant enough? Obedient enough?
Did we forget to bribe someone? To grease someone’s palm? To suck someone’s cock?
And hadn’t we been humiliated enough? Why did there have to be more abasement? Was it part of some ritual? Part of some demonic … religion? Were we being sacrificed to some strange god?
Why does it have to be so screamingly meaningless? Why do they have to turn up the nihilism? Why did meaninglessness have to thunder?
Work in Progress 