“The two needs that haunt our otherwise innocent minds are the need to judge and the need to compare. All other emotions are but perverse reflections of these, nothing else. Even if they are something else, deep down inside there are roots hooked to these two grotesque traits of the devil himself, you hear?” Stalin said softly.
However, reality was as follows:
- He was talking to his bottle of whiskey.
- The bottle was listening, but just not responding the way Stalin wanted it.
- Stalin thought about smashing it.
- Stalin held back in some wildly wise manner, but continued talking.
“Our heads turn left and right and up and down and all around us we spot people with happiness on their faces and sadness in their eyes and sometimes these two are not together. Sometimes the heart is truly happy. Sometimes the eyes are purely sad. And then, at that moment, in that precise second, this need to judge and this need to compare, they shake hands in your head. Those fuckers give a fucking bro hug to each other.
They become good friends and your eyes become their eyes and your mind becomes their brothel. You look away, but you cannot look beyond. You turn your eyes away from those happy and sad faces all around you in this world. You think about letting it go. That you are not concerned. That you’re OK, but no one is truly content and that is the worst about this world.
But what about those with happiness and sadness together, you might ask. Please go ahead, ask.”
- Stalin stared at the bottle.
“Ask, you fool. Ask me about the eternal dilemma. About the truth untold. About that patch of yellow on the blue waters. The world isn’t grey. It’s black and white. And all the white is yours and there’s less white in this world.”