We stand still. Growing, little by little, but static in the scheme of things. Many people pass by our way, though a great many more stay in place. The years pass and the pages unfurl, yet the words never move, neither are they touched. You realize that these people, such friendly and good-willed people, all around you are no different from you. Unfruitful, unknowing of which way to turn. No other trifle of knowledge could be so chilling.
The world presents a dilemma, or five-hundred or so at once. When you stand in the midst of it all, you lend a hand to help. Each hand helped becomes a friend, or an acquaintance, as no man can be so close.
Why, then, are you a good man? How does one see the pages unfold and transform through the torrents of nature? Is not mankind alone, together alone, with no bond but that of the fleeting intimacy of friendship? Why are you a good man, alone a good man in a universe of space and nothingness?
The value of a soul, the value of a life … why must there be other life than yours alone? Is it not good for man to be alone? Loneliness is trust because other men have proven so frail. Yet loneliness, peace and silence, sits without knowing the goodness and atrocity of synergy. It is loneliness that drains the life of value, while others progress like the puppets behind the wall. It is loneliness that robs the truth of meaning, through the incapability of transmission. And it is loneliness which takes from life a life, a particle subject to chaos but invisible in the masses.
You, my friend, are a good man. A globe you have held upon your shoulders, while those on its surface have wandered still in search of their hero. Alone, you are a good man, but the world calls to you for the joy they can see but still do not believe. The gods scrambled for the fruit of your labors, and though your stature reached high above the ground, those men were never seen by you but eye to eye. Is the friend alone, or is the befriended? And for whom will the desolation dissipate? I see in you the good man who chooses the good, because it makes men good men. To be a good man — how I wish to be a good man! But to be a good man is to know, to do and to love, without reservation, and with unceasing growth. And perhaps that is the great blessing: that a good man finds himself alone, so together we may find ourselves.