A man enters the room, and in front of the group he start speaking.
It is understood, they have to work,
have to eat. But no, even if it hurts, I'm not crazy.
Quite the opposite.
I'm sick of the lot of crazy ones that inhabits this planet.
People who desperately wants to be healthy, evolve, having a partner.
People that wants to be happy, what a bummer!
Is there anything more tasteless, more perfectly boring, most useless, less theatrical than happiness?
And tell me hatefull, so yes, I admit.
I am an obnoxious.
And the world is full of people with potential to be hated.
Potentially hatefull things and detestable definitely moments and situations. So I simply hate everything. Yes, I hate. Hate.
I hate Jehovah's Witnesses, the Hare Krishna, people who do not eat meat on December 31. hate the non-smokers, hate environmentalists, good people who want everyone to be the optimostic staunch not complaining about anything and everything you are looking around, I hate vegetarians, the happy couples, children with scandals and sticky sweet hands, I hate family gatherings, hate Sundays and in overall, I hate much of the existence on this earth. Anyway, I'm an obnoxious. Or a hateful
-. That. I declare myself the hateful, the largest hateful. And that doesnt make me happy. But neither do I care. Moreover, I think I have the right to defend my unhappiness by any means.
Where is it written that one has to go through life laughing at all?,
-thinking that all is well in my world and every day I'm better, better and better?
Well, no! I refuse to join the troupe of madmen who want to compose the world,
That has born broken and was and will be a mess as the song says. And that? I dinned to spend the rest of my life for something so abstract, ephemeral and cheesy as "happiness", knowing that does not exist and that is as big as life on the moon, utopia.
And I refuse to quit smoking, eat healthy, to preserve my existence in this world as if it was a wonderful experience to be lengthened per seculorum secula ... Noooooooo! I if I smoke, yet I do not go around hitting little signs that say "SMOKE HERE". Why do I have to take from them to tell me not to smoke here or there, not to smoke yo, that i should respects my life, to take care of me?
Why do I have to look good for, for what, for whom? And yes, I take, pretty, highly condemnable amounts of alcohol. And I'm immoral, promiscuous, shameless and sinful. And I think the world is simply divided into two groups: people like me, and a few hypocrites who are the same like me, but do not say it. Whant's more, you know what? I do not fear death.
And i believe that epatical cirrhosis seems a quiet respectable way to die. Also, is there any good way to die?
Would not it is the end? Y could strecht the leg and thats it. Youre gone?, either to get hit by a car or you die at home watching TV like a jerk eating carrots, doing exercises and telling yourself that life is beautiful and that God loves you ?
No!, gentlemens. To me let me with my hatred, I'm not proclaiming anything or convince people of anything. I'm not handing little papers to make people like me, because we are all a game of hopeless hatefuls, so that the world remains imperfect and unlivable life. So?
Or do i have to swallow the little speech allways and the imposition of happiness at any cost without choice?
I defend my right to hate, to embitter life, corrupt myself of envy, to feel gluttony, greed, anger, sloth, vanity and range of venial sins, capital and even deadly in, because I do not deny them over because one I wished to fuck my neighbor's wife. And Im leaving, because I hate to talk to much. And I will not say goodbye, because I hate goodbyes.
Author: Indira Páez ... From the book: Chronicles deranged.
Translation:
