excerpt from the longer one

I am a man of shroud and I wear my trinkets of alienation, not out of pride but out of necessity. I preach never, though I spread the bacteria of existentialism consciously (which is, by the way, meaning to say: you can never outspan your own freedom, not even in death, for suicide is not only a virtue of self-dependence but it is the crown-jewel of it all; the ultimate choice); this is my sole contribution to the schemata of civilizatory development; otherwise, I wish not to speak to you, nor of you. You disturb frequencies you do not even understand nor recognize. Adieu, i will delay you no longer; it is not of my aspiration to do so. Let me not inspire in you any act of piety, of courtesy, of common manners or anything else of the sort; save me this, and I shall accumulate courage; leave decency at the door, and I shall shake your hand; I do not want to be the influence of virtuous transience; this is no sermon; no preaching; no passionate allocutions from the woodcut pulpits; no speech of inspiration... nor do I intend to stir the glorious upsruge of transformative motivations in any of you; I scream only of individuality. That, and the destruction of society. That is my dogma, which disarms and dismantles all other dogma, itself included...