as if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so like myself- so like a brother, really- i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.