The Scum’s Struggle

Dreams are not the privilege of the exceptionally gifted. They are the hope of ordinary people. Born bad, never shown love, with lies and deceit for companions and darkness and crime for comfort. By a stroke of luck, he made the right choices at the most crucial moments. His future was paved with bones; he walked the night in fine clothes stained with blood. He tore out his heart and lungs for those who never returned his sincerity, swung between good and evil, and regretted it all when his soul was scattered. Who can tell me what it means to be human? He can only fall silent and weep.