I still want to live
Published on 3 November 2026 01:01 AM
Essay: "I Still Want to Live"
What an age we live in. An age in which, through transcontinental connections, people jump at each other's throats. In which the gift of life is used to kill in the slowest, most sadistic ways. To relentlessly pursue destruction. To spit in everyone's face. To trip up one's fellow countrymen. To spread unrest, doubt, and fear by every possible means. I found the Qur'an. Or perhaps it was the Qur'an that found me. It brought me face to face with the Merciful God, the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth, the Lord of the Worlds. And the clocks mercilessly keep counting time. There is no amount they cannot measure out. And when wisely allocated, it can satisfy the needs of human labor. Labor to build, to destroy, to kill. To be born anew, to die. Then to rot away in the trash like a paper McDonald's bag. Yet unlike that bag, to be saved. I will not die of cancer, and I have found a gigantic flaw in the global technical economy. They call me crazy. I live in a social care home. I am constantly brought before a court. A family court, because that is where the disabled are sent. My IQ reaches the limits of the scale at times. And glory be to the Lord forever and ever. I live with fears for my own health and life. It is easy to become a target. All it takes is stepping out of line. And I have always strived to be unique. One of a kind. I still want to live. Even tho so many try to make me stop. Around my neighborhood walks some professional poser, dressed exactly like me. From a distance, it is easy to mistake him for me. People must think that nothing bad is happening. That I am still among them. Yet I was sent away from my city of Inowrocław to a social care home. Into exile. They are my fellow countrymen. We are all Poles there. Why did this happen to me? In education I see hope; it brings me joy. Perhaps I will manage to finish school. Even though the government is bringing the cops into schools. Police in schools, shame and disgrace. There is still nothing wrong with me. I still operate a computer. I still write. I still publish. And God is the Greatest. I still do something with my time. I harm no one. Perhaps only myself, smoking these cigarettes. Many people here could perform simple jobs despite being mildly ill or disabled. Many in this care home could live in society while doing simple work. They could carry things or mow the lawn. Yet the socialists decided that they should be placed in camps. Down with the socialists. God, the remnants of honor, and the homeland. Fragments of life, like on television. A television from which all right-wing programs have been cut out. And there are TV series about dogs, though certainly not about Reksio. Long live Jihad! God is the Greatest.
Stefan got stuck in the toilet
And Reksio barked
That's Stefan's business
Why he got stuck in the toilet