A Madman's Monologue: In the Pigsty
Here's a madman's monologue. It doesn't deserve to be listened to in the first place. So just forget all about it--unless, of course, you're bored enough with your life to pay any attention to it.
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Kill me. Will you kill me, please? I just don't want to go on living. What the heck is the use of going on living here in this pigsty of an earth? We're just hogs, rolling and rolling in stinky mud together with all those ugly, stupid, good-for-nothing beings of the same species. Who the heck does he think he is, that monster? He thinks he's our boss and tells us to do this and that. And we keep on trying desperately to communicate with one another, all in vain. They seem to be on good terms, saying hello and chatting with each other, but about what? Nothing of substance whatsoever. They have absolutely nothing in their heads. They just don't know they're just hogs. They firmly believe they're human beings just like our boss, that ugly, pot-bellied man over there with a whip. I just can't take it. Why and for what purpose and how in the world did we come here in the first place? Where had we been before coming here? In Heaven? Does Heaven exist? Or in Hell? Does Hell exist? Who on earth put us miserable hogs here in the middle of this cesspool? God? Or rather, the Devil? To me, God and the Devil are the same person, if they do exist. Ever since I realized I exist in this pigsty I've always been trying desperately to communicate with my parents, relatives, teachers, mates, and all other fellow pigs, but absolutely all my efforts have come to ashes. I declare it is totally impossible for us hogs to communicate with one another. It seems as if we all have lost our linguistic, cognitive, and aesthetic abilities to understand or appreciate anything. Everybody seems to be keen on having a good time without working hard, and all that laziness has led almost all of us to total idiocy. They just can't speak properly any more. The words I utter just don't get through to them. They don't understand anything. Lord, I want to die! Besides, I don't believe I'm real here. Most probably I belong elsewhere, and have happened to be brought into this pigsty of a world all by mistake. Who knows? I may be a prince in a well-organized, peaceful, affluent kingdom in the parallel world, or maybe in the Andromeda. Or, before being brought into this world, I may have been a drop of the ocean, constantly feeling in unison with the rest of the ocean. I didn't have to be born as a living thing with this cumbersome consciousness that I drag around now. I may have even been just a piece of rock on the planet Mars. I may then have been in total harmony with the rest of the universe. I crave peace. I'm dead tired to be alive with all these stinking, loud, ugly, irritating hogs! Kill me! Hey, you up there! You, yes, you human! Kill me! You have the means, don't you? Or maybe God! Or rather, Devil up there! Kill me! I don't want to do anything more to do with this filthy earth!
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