I watched you drown, your limbs convulsing, your lamentations imperceptible, partially inaudible. Around you, a room: generational furnishings, childish remorse, disparaging thoughts. We remembered conversations. The shifting naturalness of being! You lay in your excrement, suffocating in the revulsion of your existence, in the fragility of your sentimentality. How could I look you in the eyes? Moribund being, paternal presence. Nauseating smells. You have dug a hole in my chest! Nonexistent, generational being, listen to me. Destroy me, me and my sensitivities! Dismember what is yours. Detach yourself from me, tearful being. Strip me of your thoughts. Dismantle our similarities, our unease. Free me from your paternal experiences, from your discontent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You were struggling in vain, incredulous being; you were crying like an infant. Father, your irony! I was questioning your philosophical failings, your temperamental deformities. I rose from the mat where I had been lying, remembering the times you had admitted wanting to be dead. You imagined funeral services: the delight of your passing, the collective martyrdom of your nonexistence. Contradictory being! I approached you, knelt beside you, moribund man. Do you recognize my eyes, the ones you had given me? Do you recognize the naturalness of my being? My shifting self? Your lamentations paused momentarily. Rejoice in our disregard! Tear yourself from my heart, from my thoughts! Tear out my eyes! I caressed your eyelids, the paleness of your features; the tips of my fingers traveled to your neck. I pressed. You never stopped looking at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n