Harlequin Chose to Hate

Perhaps there isn’t such a thing as “love.” Say, for just a moment, that there was no such thing. Then go further to say there is no such thing as sadness. Anger. Happiness. Guilt. Loneliness. Regret. Say the only emotions you had left were hatred and fear.

Then go even further into this spectrum of thought, and say there is no such thing as choice. Everything you do or say is planned by a master puppeteer, and you are only his marionette, a jumble of skin, water and tissue, whose only purpose is to do the will of One.

As we go even deeper into this process, think of what a life like this would be like. What a miserably horrific existence this would be.

Say, you were a human on the outside, a machine on the inside. But not just a regular machine. A machine moved with controls, with the living mind of a human being. But with the absence of all emotions but fear and hatred, how could you know the true injustice of this? Your only options are to hate the One, or fear the One.

Harlequin chose to hate the One.