The terrible ballade about life and it´s wrong-sides

I wish i had a nail in my forehead, so that I could hang myself on the walls and unnoticed spend my days and afternoons in cantines and offices. I wish I had a loudspeaker in my throat and a play-button right outside, so that people could push it and listen to randomly recorded sayings about the world, either from a right- or a left-wing perspective.

The grasshoppers can listen to my moanings at night, in the evenings I will light a red lamp at the terrace, and then I´ll sit there quiet and ponder. My bed is 90 x 200 cm, that´s enough for a person not more than 170 x 70 cm. I will die slowly, but that´s the purpose. Life is for those who can give themselves to other people, who can read papers or work in offices, who can bring out garbage and dishwash and dry floors and greet their friends without being infected by the terrible meaninglessness that´s pushing on the temples. Life is for those who can fight for what they believe in, or who can do things for other´s wellbeing.
They can live. There´s enough of them.