theres a space in the light of hindsight
that winds and acquiesces
with the shuffling feet and
darting, pensive eyes
of the man struggling for perspective:
understanding beyond words,
across mountain ranges,
from peak to trough
he lives as a man, finally
or, rather,
will finally live when the god within
accepts his fate as creator and destroyer:
a paradox only afforded the partially divine.
i, i, i
- steven
- "Seeing that before long I must confront humanity with the most difficult demand ever made of it, it seems indispensable to me to say who I am. Really, one should know it, for I have not left myself "without testimony." But the disproportion between the greatness of my task and the smallness of my contemporaries has found expression in the fact that one has neither heard nor even seen me. I live on my own credit; is it perhaps a mere prejudice that I live? ... I need only to speak with one of the "educated" who come to the Upper Engadine for the summer, and I am convinced that I do not live ... Under these circumstances I have a duty against which my habits, even more the pride of my instincts, revolt at bottom, namely, to say: Hear me! For I am such and such a person. Above all, do not mistake me for someone else!" - Nietzsche, Ecce Homo
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