You think Livia was some kind of Zen fucking master. That her life was a koan to understand. That everything was riddle.
Everything she did was endlessly enigmatic.
She probably knew that. Did it on purpose. Just to keep us busy, and her amused.
Who would surround themselves with idiots? With people who were her inferior.
She was always praising our drunkenness. Our idiocy. She loved watching us make mistakes.
It was sadism – she was a sadist. And we were masochists. There – no mystery. And masochists love to interpret their sadist. Thinks their sadist is part of some higher purpose. Which, in the end, is just part of their masochism.
It’s not even an interesting masochism. Not even S&M. And it’s all mental, which is even more pathetic.
She never meant anything she said. She was always laughing. Laughing at us. Laughing at herself. Laughing at philosophy.
Heaven forefend!
She thought it was a joke – thought everything was a joke. That laughter was the highest thing. That’s how I picture her: sitting, laughing on her own, clapping he hands as she laughs – that’s probably what she’s doing now. In glee!
It was laughter all the way down, right? And it wasn’t even her laughter – not ultimately. It’s Satanic laughter. Because Satan is an imitator.
Work in Progress 