"[It was] God himself, who laid himself as a snake at the end of his day's work under the tree of knowledge: he recovered from it to be God ..
He had made everything too good ... The devil is merely the idleness of God to every seventh day ... "
(Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce homo)
He had made everything too good ... The devil is merely the idleness of God to every seventh day ... "
(Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce homo)
Is it the fate of a man who always ready to act is morally right, according to its principles, that God would approve, of a wonderful day for the snake to be?
And you can go back? Or does the blood of the sin forever stick in my hands? Even if I try to wash clean, but be deceived my eyes, but I hardly look with your heart, my conscience, out, my hands turning red and the blood drowned me incessantly in my memories ...
I think at the moment is not near. I hide the hands from people who are near me. So I sat the last three days alone in the café every morning and made me think ... I felt free. Redeemed. But once I step back into a crowd I'm choking on their presence. They make me aware of the blood. With me I have made peace. I know who I am and I know my mistake. But people do not tuen. This distorted image they have of me, pressed me mercilessly gene ground. The image ... my own work I have created in six days. Too good ...
What follows after the seventh day?
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