cy mba l s
2 021 : met hod a nd mad nes s
Monologue Why risk being wrong when you can always be right? What’s the point in that? I want to know because knowing is what I want, I don’t want to think about being wrong when I can just be right and not have to worry or wonder or think. I just know. No maybe, no perhaps, just simple yes and simple no. I don’t need to think; I just need to know. The future is a mirror, and I am the reflection of the what. No why. No how. That’s too complicated. Too much thinking. Knowing is so easy. So delicate. I am the one who watches. I observe, and I watch, and I know. I can explain how, but why would I. Why even wonder how I know what I know when I can know what I know. I know she left because she wondered about life without me. I know she left because she had dreams to chase. I know she left because she didn’t think I’d amount to anything. She left because she thought, and she dreamed and she wondered and she didn’t know; neither did I. If I just know, and I know, and I never stop knowing, then she can’t hurt me. No one can. — Christian Mayer, XI: flash fiction
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