Circa late 19th century.
A small, dim room filled with books, a desk, and four chairs, in a Victorian house with only the sunlight of one exposed window.
Two well dressed gentlemen sit across from one another.
One is studiously curious. The other mildly pensive.
Doctor: "You know enough to actually understand, and forgive, empathize and have compassion on every human being out there."
Me: "That is correct."
Doctor: "Then why are you filled with so much rage...??"
Me: "Because I'm alone.
I am the only one on this frequency.... And I get angry that no one else has been willing to do the work it takes to get here.
I resent them.
I resent them all.
I hate them for their self-inflicted blindness.
That's selfish."
Silent pause......
Doctor: "You don't believe that anyone else out there is capable of compassion and forgiveness?"
Me: "Of course I do. But not from a place of genuine understanding and empathy. If they truly understood, and personally felt the struggle of others, they themselves would change. But they don't. Do they?"
[This is an excerpt from a play... The writer was never able to get anyone interested in producing it, so it got buried and lost among volumes of work that no one has ever read until recently. There was no name attached.]
A small, dim room filled with books, a desk, and four chairs, in a Victorian house with only the sunlight of one exposed window.
Two well dressed gentlemen sit across from one another.
One is studiously curious. The other mildly pensive.
Doctor: "You know enough to actually understand, and forgive, empathize and have compassion on every human being out there."
Me: "That is correct."
Doctor: "Then why are you filled with so much rage...??"
Me: "Because I'm alone.
I am the only one on this frequency.... And I get angry that no one else has been willing to do the work it takes to get here.
I resent them.
I resent them all.
I hate them for their self-inflicted blindness.
That's selfish."
Silent pause......
Doctor: "You don't believe that anyone else out there is capable of compassion and forgiveness?"
Me: "Of course I do. But not from a place of genuine understanding and empathy. If they truly understood, and personally felt the struggle of others, they themselves would change. But they don't. Do they?"
[This is an excerpt from a play... The writer was never able to get anyone interested in producing it, so it got buried and lost among volumes of work that no one has ever read until recently. There was no name attached.]
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