he shut the door on his own greatness
when she never walked through,
and stowed himself away,
threw away the key
her decision to stay and not leap
is not a puddle splash by a curb;
it is a 50 foot wave
on a honeymoon.
I can’t have her,
well, the world can’t have me.
a whore in its service,
I win because my slavery is chosen
as long as we’re winning somewhere
we’re winning everywhere
the colors of victory, however shallowly obtained,
run deepest in the desperate and withered
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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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