I saw a crazy tired "meth head" on the subway train yesterday. He was not in the worst condition you can imagine in such cases, but certainly on his way down, struggling with a falling apart suitcase full of some stuff... you could have seen a light, still glowing from his soul through his tanned face under a line of blond hair, he smiling fully conscious of the absurdity of the situation and in that moment... he became a symbol of human life struggle and a symbol of a never ending hope... I realized again that there is no higher reason or dignity in life except our endurance in struggle, struggle not for higher spiritual values or common good, but struggle for struggle, struggle for power itself...
Faces of those who waged such struggle, are beautiful and full of light...
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“To those human beings who are of any concern to me I wish suffering, desolation, sickness, ill-treatment, indignities—I wish that they should not remain unfamiliar with profound self-contempt, the torture of self-mistrust, the wretchedness of the vanquished: I have no pity for them, because I wish them the only thing that can prove today whether one is worth anything or not — that one endures.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power
Friedrich Konrad Winkler, Stalingrad 1942
