The Grim Reaper's Speech

When I'm in a dark mood, I try at least to channel it into some kind of art so that it's at least somewhat productive. Here's a fun little guy I jokingly call the Grim Reaper's Speech.

"Your audacity makes me laugh!
"Did you ever really think it otherwise? Really? This whole thing is a farce, fabricated by we who are higher and mightier than you. It’s a farce by which we put a few of you amusing souls on the earth, and surround you with all this filler. We then laugh at you. You are our days’ and nights’ entertainment. We see you, you vast minority, as you keep trying harder andharder from day to day, as though somehow, somewhere, drops of water drip intoa bucket that will add up to some reward. I laugh at you! I laugh because allaround you those who have mocked and scolded and smote you are raised higherand higher on platforms of admiration, wealth, and prosperity, and you aredriven lower and lower—hilariously, undeservedly so—into the muck of a pit ofmanure, this pit being the only gift humankind ever condescended to grant you.Before your very eyes your starved children are killed by the fat ones. Yetstill you press on. Who could have foreseen such hilarious tenacity when we plottedthis whole perverse joke! How cute you are, you insignificant buffoon, as you,who have always taken pains never to harm or injure another, get run over andtrampled to pieces by the very souls you cared for and loved the most. Yourgoodness is returned with cutting slaps, while the wickedness of those youserve and pray for is blessed, multiplied, and made bounteous. Even when yourspirit completely breaks behind your pupils, even when one can see the shardsthereof falling down through your spirit, you still struggle on, surrounded bythe rancid filth, you struggle on trying to save the very souls who damn you,as though somehow, somewhere, everything will be made right, that somehow rightwill triumph over wrong. That’s the joke! It won’t happen. Life is one bigjoke, and it’s on you. The joke is that nothing will be made right. The joke isthat all that you see is inherently and intrinsically dark, twisted, and evil.The joke is that you precious people are among the most insignificant andpathetic entities the galaxy has ever seen. Your fate is to see your left handcut your own throat, even as your right hand tries to fend it off. But you’llfind you can’t. Something possessed you. You can’t stop this apparent suicide.Only they can. The others. Theothers for whom you worked all your laughable life. And you’ll find that, whenyou call out for help, that that is just what they’ll do—they’ll laugh at you.They’ll laugh at you as you scream, as you cry, and then, they’ll laugh at youwhen you become one of them, when you curse, swear, and feel the cold steelacross your neck and the sticky warmth of your own red life bleeding from yourvessels. They’ll throw your corpse on top of their staircase to reach ever higher—andbeing that step will be the one tangible contribution of your existence."