Humanity. Requiem. Übermensch.

Humanity is long gone. Do you want to make something good for this world? For a first, I have a visceral hatred for fur coats. And more, for people who praise them. For once if you'd take Paris Hilton and skin her alive in front of other Paris Hiltons, it would be cruel murder. If you choose to love for real and detach yourself from the demands of society, you're a fucktard, but if you make fun of those around you're adored.

What is society anyway? A melting pot of shit and piss and trash. Come contradict me. Come tell me it's the most beautiful thing to be accepted by something you abhor. Why...? To blend in, to have a job, to be just another filthy face in the crowd. You talk about Untermensch. And if you want to be one, feel free, it's the easiest.

I am spreading my arms to embrace the Übermensch. Acknowledge this: "All beings so far have created something beyond themselves; and do you want to be the ebb of this great flood and even go back to the beasts rather than overcome man? What is the ape to man? A laughingstock or a painful embarrassment. And man shall be just that for the overman: a laughingstock or a painful embarrassment…". [Friedrich Nietzsche]

I am spreading my wings to become Übermensch. Already my mind has been set on realizing that the ape-like laughters at my special nature are caused by the will to be NOTICED by someone who is obviously higher than you, because you feel hate towards the Übermensch, you are one with the crowd and the Übermensch will only treat you likewise.

Don't get me wrong. I am on my way to become Übermensch by being Übermensch. I was born one, tried to induce my human nature when I realized it was in vain, hence my pride.

I do not accept requests from Untermenschen. I don't care what they think, only it bothers me when they express it loudly [most of the times], for I need complete detachment. Your voices bring me back to your shit. Your voices will not change me, will not make me fall and blend in, but will only make me despise you more. And my despise has no limits.

I feel so free, so proud, amongst my fellow Übermenschen in progress, that I don't need stains from this wounded society. I am not unique, yet I am, as all, I am not "me", I might be a stereotype, but at least a stereotype of one who doesn't blend in with society, but prefers to blend in with the more rebel ones.

I might be seen as an arrogant one, and trust me, I am whatever you say I am. I am whatever you claim I am, whatever you dream I am, whatever you think I am. You think all I spoke here is a lie, or a conception of my sick mind, it is true. You think it is all true, it is. You think I am depressed, I am.

"You speak of a person I do not know".

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