(King Oedipus, 1230f / The Servant)
What truth!
Was it me clear from the beginning. Even as he gently turned my face around me stealing my first kiss, it screamed in me: No!
How many times have I heard stories about the power of emotions, rarely have I really believed it. Can the mind, morality that have been built up for years to decompose in less than a minute to dust? Why a tender touch the protective wall, the distance can be born of my caution to overcome so quickly? Why I was - and still am - so weak?
hope. Trust. Love. What value do these things already? But ignorance is the greatest weakness of mankind. Instead of seeing the truth, we hope. I was hoping I could I trust him, love him. be loved.
hope is a veil that the gods have an excessive amount sprinkled with glitter. The reality is distorted, the painful Truth be covered and the sparkle of fine glitter dust illuminated only the moments that are able to consolidate the veil.
short,
hope is a lie
A very unstable lie. Often reaches only a gesture, a word and the veil tears. What remains are the torments of knowledge. I would have preferred to be ignorant, I could content myself to hate him. But I knew and I lied. My knowledge frees him of his guilt. What remains is my fault. My agony.
I'm open Poor running into the knife. I just fell in with starting the fires of hell. With every touch I've pulled out a feather of my wings to fall only to end up.
I hate myself for all these things I did with the certainty that it is wrong. I hate that I watched the veil, smiling as he played in the wind. I hate that I had not rubbed the glitter in my eyes. I hate that I was weak, every time when I met his gaze.
I hate myself for it.
The troubles are not even approximately meet. They just rob me breathless. Me drive the tears in his eyes. Allow me to choke you. You crush me, they take my power.
But they should burn me! Any sin should fall together with me to dust.
But perhaps it would only run.
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