Sometimes I imagine myself in front of a reader of the future. I am, to him, a complete stranger; an animal, I would say… absolutely incomprehensible. Our habits do not match, we have no affinity for tastes, our geniuses are exactly opposites. What would he think of me? Of course, everything one thinks about a little evolved animal. And knowing that my customs would cause him astonishment, I know I would never get of him any approval. Through the lens of the reader of the future, I observe, for example, my acute misanthropy: how much revulsion! how strange! How can a modern guy bow to loneliness? And if the contemptuous expression were not enough, I see it easily transmuting into hatred, once perceiving the mutual disdain. This animal, in fact, deserves a good beating! It is a real social cancer! And as cancer it cannot, under any circumstances, proliferate! Laughter, lots of laughter… The reader of the future does not know that the animal is psychologically neutered, that it disgusts the multiplication. But maybe the animal delire, once fantasizing this reader of the “future”…
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