Under normal circumstances I am immune to the cruelty of my environment. I have retreated to a cave in space and time where I found a jot of privacy and a pinch of independence. I defied oppression by evading confrontation and scouted a solitary rock in this damned place where I was certain I’ll get enough fish for dinner tonight. The shimmering lights of thousands of dying suns held me captive. I eavesdropped on the murmurs of crashing waves, hesitating then returning to my hole in the ground dreaming of taking a plunge one of these days.
Just as long as no one fucked with my fragile bubble I managed to be almost pleasant. If attacked, however, I lashed back with hardy ridicule and gallant courage. I am a believer in not believing and I will defend my thought with claw and tooth after pen and argot, regardless of what had come to pass or of what is yet to be. As if this is enough!
I could go on living for myself till a day comes when I look into the mirror and spit at my reflection if I still have a remnant of human decency left. Or it could be worse. I might smile feebly at the ghastly figure before lowering my head in shame to stare at my own feet. Images of men getting kicked in the face then trying to stand up again only to be brought down and beaten by a mob of ghosts haunt me forever.
I fumble in the pockets of my honor for a forgotten handkerchief to wipe the tears of my conscience. I should blow the nose of my anger instead.
Not too far ahead, there’s a fork down the road with an arrow pointing one way. I squint my eyes to read. The Point of No Return.