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Ripped from an convicted existentialist's memoir....
 CERTAINLY HEROES MUST EXIS 
 
who do their utmost,
 
even in a state of quiet desperation,
 
to search out and destroy 
 
the monstrous deceits 
 
that mislead hapless clods 
 
 along the well-beaten paths 
 
to the graveyard.
 
Surely a strenuous effort 
 
 must always be made 
 
 by some fervent revolutionary to,
 
 somehow, for the time being,
 
conquer the illusory world 
 
that confronts the Task 
 
 
with insidious deceptions.
 
 And this even believing the Task 
 
is futile, hence absurd,
 
 and paradoxically,suicidal,
 
 because the self is of the illusion 
 
to be dispelled,
 
 a witch to be cremated 
 
on the stake erected for vanity.
 
If only I too might be a hero,
 
 and put aside the flask 
 
with its bewitching potion 
 
of non-alcoholic self-delusion.
 
If only I might recover 
 
 from self-intoxicated drunkenness 
 
in time to bloom belatedly.
 
If only I might be the Joker 
 
or Hamlet in the Deck,
 
rolled over at the last moment 
 
to fulfill the heroic examples 
 
of the illustrious noble lords and ladies 
 
who were from birth fully committed 
 
to the Task.If only this fond wish might serve 
 
 as my successful entreaty to my Muse 
 
to bestow upon my genius enough madness 
 
 
to faithfully embark 
 
on the most fantastic adventure of all,
 
 and to relish the Grand Project of my life 
 
 no matter how futile, unrealistic,
 
 and impossible the Task may seem.For here I am yet again 
 
under the crushing weight 
 
of my insignificance,
 
the unutterable heaviness of being 
 
that affirms everything I am not.
 
The preponderance of the evidence against me 
 
 magnifies my worthlessness 
 
to the degree that I am truly astonished 
 
 by the grandeur of my insignificance.
 
Yet I fear falling back asleep;
 
 for this almost unbearable weighty feeling 
 
is just a shade of the terror 
 
 from which I awoke.Surely there can be no greater horror on Earth 
 
than a ride on that pallid Nightmare 
 
 stepping out slowly but surely 
 
 along the black bridleless paths to nowhere.
 
Nevertheless, if Sleep,
 
Death's twin,seizes me again,
 
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