THE DEATH OF INDIVIDUALITY

I am the Every man. I have no name, no face. I have only thoughts. And these thoughts are not my own. Everyday I roam the streets, just another faceless face in the crowd. The quest for identity has long since ended. Now all that remains is acceptance. I am my own person. But my own person is only who they tell me to be. Nothing escapes the rules of the Collective Consciousness. That which is not understood must be condemned. That which is strange and does not fit the sphere of the normal can only be dangerous. And hence it has no place in the ideal world. Maybe, if we close our eyes and pretend that it does not exist, it will go away. Maybe, if we poke and prod it and drive it to tears it will change for the better and become one of us. We never think about the future. We never question where our mentality is taking us. We do not share foreboding glimpses of turning ourselves into mindless drones driven by voices that belong to us, yet speak a language which is not our own. But we listen. Because it enables us to become part of something that is bigger than ourselves. Uniqueness is an unforgivable crime-nothing but meaningless revolt. It can have only one punishment: Death.