I'd wish to make a narration of the present events. Yet I can't. There is an undirected rage. It is not one directed towards me, neither it is one directed towards anyone else. Not towards world at large. This is a general rage.
I will not hide a slight pleasure for this minor egocentric cataclysm.
Lord! Such a lot of assignments I endevoured fondly. They now make part of one same act of slavery and I just spurn it.
I never arbitrarily manipulated formative processes, did not misappropiate charges overcoming my very own humble dignity. I did not. My arrogance works through more sigilous mechanisms
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