Let me be the fool

http://www.thefool.com/vr/index.asp?viewcard=0t

Mother fucking cock-sucker, what can I say? Thank you?
Yes, you have once again exceeded expectations. I AM surprised. I AM hurt. I AM disappointed (though I shouldn’t be. I should not be surprised. It is consistent. When all else fails… in all you fail… at least you are consistent. “A foolish consistency is the hobbgobblin of little minds.”)

“The Fool” story…
You are not the fool. I am the fool. I will always play the fool, now and always. The fool never dies. He is never the main character, only a vehicle, but he does not die at the end. He is but a mere vehicle to carry others, a necessary vehicle without which the real “personages” cannot act, are stagnant, paralyzed. This is my spiritual existence.

Q’s grandmother, a very spiritual woman, once complained that she couldn’t read me at all. While she never quite trusted me, she fell into the trap of assuming my ambiguity stemmed from spiritual strength. In truth, I am nothing to read. Mediums need energy, souls. I am no soul; I carry them. What does it mean to be soulless, to be a vehicle rather than an acting being? I have erased myself. I am a mere vehicle, a tool at others’ disposal, empty if not full of someone else, if not carrying someone else. Empty. Everyone wants a ride, but no one knows his destination. I am only a guide, not even a guide, a vehicle. I am not even instructive, a mere tool.

I told you not to be concerned with “appeasing” me, with doing “the right thing,” with doing anything you don’t want to do, just to “quedar bien.” So there. Fuck me, eh? My bad. I can say nothing now. I just never imagined this is how you would want to leave things. On the other hand, you do tend to push things to their limit. I gave you this one. And now you take it. Fuck me!

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch, mother-fucker. You must never know how you hurt me. You would never comprehend its insignificance.

I am numb. I don’t know what to think. That’s all.

One of the most important things to know is how to say goodbye. We may not always know when to say it, but we must know how to say it. Don’t you know how to say goodbye? Clearly you do not. You have made this clear – before now. You could never say goodbye. But this? This I did not predict. This I do not understand. I feel I must have done something, something awful, to offend you. Perhaps I simply loved you, and this is its own offense. If only you would speak to me, though. If only you would tell me with your words. Perhaps you fear your words; they cannot withstand my own.