Faster and faster, faster and faster! Faster and faster I go. Faster and faster I reach. Faster and faster I stand. Faster and faster I sit. Routine, routine, how do you make me fast! I no longer consider anything! There is only my will! And the will wants! Walk, reach, stand, sit! Now! Space, time, matter! Be subject to me! I no longer have to pay attention to anything, for everything is subject to my will. My will alone is enough and everything becomes as I want it. Of its own accord.
And then… And then: Then he runs around the corner… and crashes together with the other one. Then he grabs the rope… and it hangs three centimetres more to the right than yesterday. Then he jumps up… and hits his head on the new lamp. Then he drops… and the chair is damaged and no longer supports him.
He thought he was godlike and lonely at the top in his will, to which the world has to bend its knee. But he is only lonely, he is only isolated. Free from any connection to the world that surrounds him. Without resonance and without common swinging and common paying attention. From chance. From happy chance he lives only.
Quickly, quickly, quickly cut the carrots. Oh, how fast I am. Oh, what a world belongs to me. Oh, what a god I am! – A noise! Oops! – Oh woe! – The cut is so deep. The blood is so red…
And so – so that his own blood will soon no longer have to flow – man takes from the world everything that is its own. Presses it into his narrow and all too simple format. Forces it to be silent and to obey. Abuses and suffocates it. He no longer wants to hear any sound from her that could frighten him. And – globally soon – he goes about his will. Undisturbed by everything that makes up the world and life. Reduced to the will of his small and oh-so-simple mind.
Quick, quick, quick! Nothing stands in my way any more! I go out the door, I ride in the car, I satisfy my cravings. Nothing stands in my way, for the world is ours and we are its God! And separate he is. And lonely he is, the little oh so simple, mortal God. And so he passes by everything. Past the world. And nothing he knows, for he wants only one thing: no fear, no pain. No blood of his own. For that he is ready to suffocate everything around him. So lonely and full of fear is he, the mortal god. And he doesn’t just do that to the world. He does it to anyone who might come too close. He does it to anyone who might cause him pain. He does it to everyone… to everyone who breathes even a little freely.