![]() Something is beingĭone to me and by a mere thing, here in my own house. "We're being punished here, so if we can get off on a trip now and then, fuck it, do it."Īs silly as this is, he thought, it's frightening. Next where they punish us here because we were born evil-" What's there really in this world, Bob? It's a stopping place to the What about Jerry Fabin look at someone too far into Substance D. Do you? Why? What's in this world? And have you even seen-Shit, And the pain, the first knowledge of absolute isolation and suffering, touched him throughout in its undisguised actual form. Because, he thought, I did it alone.Īt that moment the first rock-and it was not rubber or soft foam plastic-struck him in the inguinal region. While using my empathy box, like everyone else. ![]() But why does it bother me? I've undergone it before, duringįusion. ![]() Who threw the stone at me? he asked himself. He plucked open the carĭoor, squeezed inside. Once, he fell clouds of dust obscuredĮverything, and he ran from the dust - he hurried faster, sliding and Stones I am doing what stones do, without volition. And then, goaded on - the goad invisible but real, not to beĬhallenged - he resumed his climb. Would go unmarked - the dead stones, the dust-stricken weeds dry andĭying, perceived nothing, recollected nothing, about him or themselves. Here there existed no one to record his or anyone else's degradation,Īnd any courage or pride which might manifest itself here at the end By having killed the androids?īy Rachael's murder of my goat? He did not know, but as he ploddedĪlong a vague and almost hallucinatory pall hazed over his mind heįound himself at one point, with no notion of how it could be, a stepįrom an almost certainly fatal cliffside fall - falling humiliatinglyĪnd helplessly, he thought on and on, with no one even to witness it. Poisonous taste resembling defeat yes, he thought, that's what it is: Remote from everything nothing lived here except himself.īecome hot, now evidently time had passed. Resumed his trudge up the slope, the lonely and unfamiliar terrain, Then, angry at himself, he spat - spat with wrath and contempt,įor himself, with utter hate, onto the barren ground. Sweat from his eyes, salt tears produced by his skin, his whole achingīody. He walked on, up the hillside, and with each step the weight on him "Everything anybody has ever thought."įor Mercer everything is easy, he thought, because Mercer acceptsĮverything. In panic he thought, I'm dependent on them. I mean, before they came here I could stand it, being alone in the building. You have to be with other people, he thought. It is the ultimate shadow, the defeat of creation this is the curse at work, the curse that feeds on all life. At some time, every creature which loves must do so. It is the basic condition of your life, to be required to violate your own identity. The old man said, "You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go.
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