HAVE YOU BEEN PULLING THE CART UNTIL TODAY?

Good morning, friends and enemies.

My dearest invisible friends are busy with a thousand other things, but I never, ever, ever fail in my daily duty. I never stay silent. When I have something to say, I say it, and that is that. No one can stop me.

I know, I know, I know that my blog — or rather, my messages — are disturbing. They disturb people, and not just a little.

You know, someone tried to sabotage me, and some coward was hoping never to see me again. Instead, my “fleet” — pardon me, my numbers — keeps growing bigger and bigger.

Now let me say this with all the honesty that belongs to me, or with what you like to call “intellectual honesty” — although there is very little that is truly intellectual about it if honesty does not also exist in your words and in your thoughts.

Intellectual honesty.

Now forgive me. I do not want to be cruel, but be honest: how many of you, who consider yourselves intellectually honest, would actually have the courage to come and stand before me?

Look at me.

I am almost eighty years old. I am not fat; I wear a size 42/44. I am not powerful, at least not in the way you understand power. I am alone, so to speak. Apparently, I have no bodyguards. I am not rich. I own only the things I have worked hard for — simple things, perhaps, but useful for everyday life.

And yet you swaggering, two-bit cart-pullers — why don’t you face me?

I am not university-educated, nor do I hold the kind of qualifications you value. Or perhaps I do, just not in the way you imagine. Yes, I have a degree — from the university of life, from the school of the streets.

I take no medication. I do not go to the gym. I suffer no particular pain, apart from the ordinary tiredness that comes from carrying out my duty every day, wherever it takes me.

I own no weapons.

So why are you afraid of me?

Since you seem perfectly capable of amusing yourselves at the expense of those you consider fools, why do you not come and meet me?

Whether you like it or not, your taste for mocking people for free seems to disappear when it comes to me.

And do you know what I think?

To me, this is a crystal-clear sign that I have touched something inside you. Yes, I have touched the darkest side of your soul.

And if that dark side were a black box, like the one recovered after an aircraft crash, no human being would want to save it. Everything would be better left scattered and lost.

So let me say it: God has every reason to come down to this tormented Earth, soiled, filthy, covered in mud like a mountain of sludge — and I could use far worse words.

Honest people struggle terribly just to survive.

For the dishonest, this world has become a paradise.

Ah — I do not know whether you have understood what I mean by the word “rickshaw”.

Yes, yes, yes.

I am using it as a metaphor.

You are like people who have spent their lives pulling the same cheap little cart, merely getting by and hoping that the old mechanism would keep working forever.

A rickshaw is a simple vehicle. It has very little machinery. For a long time, perhaps, you managed to pull it along without difficulty.

But no, no, no.

This is where you are mistaken.

That cart you have been pulling all these years is now falling apart.

Piece by piece.

And the worst part is that the spare parts are no longer available.

Thank you for your reflection — that too would cost you nothing — although apparently no one wants to make the effort.

What strange creatures human beings are!