Today I will bathe in the sun and catch up on some sleep. Last night the dogs were barking, the birds were chirping, the whores were whoring, the drunkards were drinking, and this culmination of sounds seemed to echo around my jar, keeping me awake all night. I tried to sleep again in the morning, but alas, I received the usual shouts and spits from the chitonwearers. They flaunt unnecessary and mannered garments which I rid myself of even as a young boy. After the chiton, I also rejected money and other human conventions, and any last crumb of ‘civilisation’. And as a sleep-deprived old man, I stay away from anyone who claims to be civilised. Or anyone who desires possessions; or anyone blames the gods for their own mistakes.
I will climb up to the mountain and sleep there. I am more content in my own company, with just a rabbit to roast.
Although they are desperate to be free from their masters, even the slaves turn their noses up at me. They do not see that the truest freedom is to develop a perfect mastery over oneself. Happiness cannot rely on your status, or how people perceive you. And although I receive disgusted looks from both the aristocrats and the slaves, I still believe that nothing done in private cannot be done in public.
As I climb the mountain my spirit soars. Like a child, I pretend to be a lion, imitating its movements, roaring at birds, and scratching the earth. Before the winds become too strong, I stop climbing. Like a lion again, I search for a spot to sleep. I find a spot to rest my paws, and doze off on a grassy patch against a wall.
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