Finite Philosophy

Before we end this little dance, let me just say how much fun it has been. I mean, we know that death is the only conclusion we're going to get today, but still... thanks.

You know, forgiveness is a strange thing to me. I can't feel it like I can feel hatred. That may be why I did what I did back then- just trying to feel something.

I don't think you hate me. You fear me, sure. And with good reason. But I think that if you knew as much about me as I know about you, you wouldn't begrudge me so much in this little end.

I tried using the hatred, but it's gone now. Just the shadow of a fire flickering against the walls of a cave. It's not real. That's why I think what I'm feeling is the void of compassion. It's very unsettling.

Just a moment longer.

Compassion. Empathy. It relies on the destruction of the most core, human imparrative: That the "self" is more important than the "other." In a way, we obliterate the parts of ourselves that make us who we are, in order to imagine ourselves as someone else. Very near intellectual suicide. Maybe that is why it feels so hollow.

Enough prattle. Onto the climax.

Make sure the rope is tight. I'd hate to waste your time by dangling.