All that is said by any of us can only be imitation and representation.
-Critias by Plato
I have closely observed you for the last ten years and I've seen what you really are.
You are a little "me".
You plead for happiness in life, but security means more to you, even if it cost you to wreck my whole life. Since you have never learned to seize upon happiness, to enjoy it and safeguard it, you lack the courage and integrity.
Let me tell you, my little "me", what kind of man you are?
You listen to commercials on the radio, advertisements for laxatives, toothpaste, detergents, deodorants, and so on. But you are unaware of your abysmal stupidity and your bad taste.
Listen, little "me".
Every single "I" of your composition throws a light on the wretchedness of my life. Every one of your petty "I"s diminishes the hope of realizing true value of life. That is ground for sorrow, little "me", for deep, heartbreaking sorrow. To avert such sorrow you make silly little jokes. That's what you call your sense of humor.
Have you ever listened closely to a nightclub entertainer's jokes about you? About you, about himself, and the whole wretched world you have created.
You hear a joke about yourself and you join in the laughter. You don't laugh because you appreciate humor at your own expense. You laugh at the joke without suspecting that you are laughing at yourself, that the joke is on you. And all the millions of people fail to realize that the joke is on them.
Have you ever noticed how ridiculous the people are made to look in the movies? Why have you been laughed at so heartily, so openly, so maliciously, down through the centuries?
I will tell you why you are laughed at, little "me", because I take you seriously, very seriously.
Invariably you miss the truth in your thinking. You remind me of the monkey in the cage. You could have become the master of your existence long ago if your thinking aimed at the truth.
Do you see, little "me" that your destiny is not into your own hands?
You think more about your neighbor than about who you really are. Forget about your neighbor, little "me" and look inside yourself! Your neighbor, too, will be grateful. Tell to yourself that you're no longer willing to work for death but only for life.
You're nothing, little "me"! Nothing whatever! Unfortunately, You have built this civilization, without knowledge of what you're building. You have built a prison little "me".
You're not free, little "me", and you haven't the faintest idea what freedom is. You wouldn't know how to live in freedom.
In view of all this, I'm bidding you goodbye, little "me".
I will serve you no more, I refuse to let my concern for you torture me slowly to death. You can't follow me to the distant places I'm bound for.
You'd be scared to death if you so much as suspected what the future has in store for you - because undoubtedly you're in the process of inheriting the earth, little "me"! I am sorry for the earth.
I'll stop hiding behind your stories little "me". No matter who I am, there are times when I get a hint that I am not just you, a little "me". Even if it is only in a dream, there is a part of me which knows infinity. I trust that part of myself! I am not "just" a little "me"!