Everytime he paused, he thought. Evertime he thought, he paused. He checked the circumstances and situation in which he had put himself and then the people around him with his whole, his cumulative, his sum total, and checked for explanations and checked for contradictions. He checked it with his moral compass. For him, it was as simple and as natural as breathing, everything had an explanation, everything. It was also a pause to connect at times with his inner creature, his joy. It beckoned to him amidst the corruption, the evil, the drudgery and the lifelessness he saw and faced everyday around him. He had to see it, to acknowledge to himself that it existed. For exist it did. And its target was HIM.
And every time, the inner creature guided him through the process with the ease and the simplicity of clean thought and rationally consistent ideas – like his Occam’s razor, slicing out, chopping off the inessentials that threatened to bog down his very existence. The pause was the brief instant when he savoured himself – and himself alone – and a nod to what it was all about – his very integrity challenged every second, his honesty held to ransom, his ethics questioned and his existence threatened to be wiped out by the single word of an undeserved, a blot, a parasite, a nothing.
The nature of the beast WAS a rat in a sewer, he reckoned and laughed at it. He rarely allowed himself that laugh – it was a full-throated sound that came from within – with his head thrown back and the joy of existence – HIS, above all else.
He raised an eyebrow and said out loud to no one in particular, though it was addressed to the creature within him: “Hell, yeah!” And he laughed.
He now knew what he had to do.