My God, what have we done? I say to X. What have we turned ourselves into? Monsters. Get away from me, I tell him, you’re evil, I’m nothing like you, you disgust me, leave me alone. Our way of life, I say. It started as a game, or a challenge: we were unhappy to be sure, but we wanted to be unhappier, and we thought we were clever, we practically dared life to punish us, we must have thought we were stronger than we were, we didn’t realise we were playing with a despair that was to grow inside us, grow with our stubbornness. Then it became a sin, our way of life. Now it’s a cell, shrinking around us. Get away from me, I say, I beg you.


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