Requiem for a Polymath

Ask the dust if you want to create.

Ask the universe if you want to be.

Ask yourself if you want to see.

To see the reality.

The reality of vanity, vicious people and happy masks.

The reality of illusions, materialistic dreams and echoes from the grave.

Do you see?

Do you see the reality?

Or you're only a vanitious and vicious man with a smile.

Or you're only a dollar man with a profoundly suffocated scream.

Ask the people if you want to remain blind.

I don't know you.

I don't what to know you.

If you can see the reality,

Welcome to hell my friend.

This.... this reality,

You can survive it

Or accept it.

Dying or smiling.

I don't know you.

I don't what to know you.

I hope you will die.

After your death in this reality,

You will become a loner, a learner, a teacher, a philosopher, a polymath.

And then, you will return to this reality.

With the answers from the dust.

With the answers from the universe.

With the answers from yourself.

With new questions from the dust for creating.

With new questions from the universe for to be.

With new questions from yourself to thyself.

I don't know you.

I don't want to know you.

But if you try to change the reality,

You will suffer.

But if you try to accept the reality,

You will suffer.

With a smile.

A perpetual suffering.

You need to die again.

If you can see the reality,

Welcome to hell my friend.

This is your requiem.

A requiem for your knowledge.

A requiem for your wisdom.

A requiem for your creativity.

A requiem for your logic.

A requiem for your rationality.

A requiem for your deductivity .

A requiem for your inductivity.

A requiem for your brain.

A requiem for your [hyper]consciousness.

A requiem for your hyperthymesia.

A requiem for your perceiving of the reality.

A requiem for your contemplation of the reality

The reality is laughing at you.

The reality is laughing at you as a boogieman to a five-year-old child.

The reality is laughing at you as an asylum to a new patient.

The reality is laughing at you as eternity to death.

A polymath's death is a finitude.

A polymath's ideas are eternal.

I don't know you.

I don't what to know you.

I hope you come back.

With a new answer from the dust.

With a new answer from the universe.

With a new answer from yourself.

We need you, my friend.

This hell needs a polymath.

And I know, you will die again, and again, and again.

But your eternal recurrence,

Cannot cure the blindness.

No, it cannot.

But when a blind man cries,

The only hope is the dust.

The only hope is the universe.

The only hope is the polymath.

I don't know you.

I don't want to know you.

But this requiem is a distortion of the reality.

Rest in peace and see you soon.

Again and again and again.

My friend.

A polymath.

I don't know you.

I don't want to know you.

Stop the music.

Gravediggers, do your damn job.