Part 1: Nihilism
Krishna: What’s the fucking point of loving someone when nothing matters?
Krishna’s Mind: Because the universe may be uncaring and cold, but you are still loved, and you find meaning with the people closest to you. Connection is the only thing that transcends the void, even if it’s temporary. The moments you share, even in their fleeting nature, have a depth that can’t be measured by the emptiness of the universe.
Krishna: I hate how fucked life is. Rape, torture, murder—those were all normal things for survival, and now us humans dare call ourselves “moral” and God’s creatures when NONE OF THAT EXISTS. We pretend we’re above all that—above animal instincts, above our true nature—but it’s all still here, deep down.
Krishna’s Mind: You're right. None of that exists in a universal sense. It’s all societal control. Laws, morality, religion—they’re all constructs, made up to control behavior. In the grand expanse of time and space, nothing we’ve created really matters. God? Just a fictional idea, an escape from the horror and randomness of existence. The human need for order, for comfort, makes us cling to these ideas. But the truth is, we live in a universe that doesn’t care about us.
Krishna: Money and status are just a fool’s game.
Krishna’s Mind: True. Money and status are only meaningful if you’re chasing them for self-serving purposes. They’re illusions that the world tells you to value, because it benefits the systems that perpetuate them. In the grand scheme of things, they don’t matter. We’re all going to die—death claims all lives, regardless of how much you accumulate. No matter how many zeros you have in your bank account, or how many people know your name, when you’re gone, you’re just dust, like everyone else. None of it survives.
Krishna: I don’t believe in polyamory or materialism. Why?
Krishna’s Mind: Because you see them for what they are. Polyamory, when misused, disregards the true meaning of a relationship. It’s not about love, it’s about control and validation. People use it as a way to avoid dealing with intimacy, with the vulnerability that comes with real connection. Materialism? It destroys lives, families, relationships. It turns people into things, commodities. It strips away the richness of human experience, replacing it with an endless cycle of acquiring and discarding. You believe in something deeper, something more real. You crave honesty, simplicity, and love that isn’t about possession.
Krishna: What’s the point in me finding a relationship? Why bother when the world feels like it’s all pointless?
Krishna’s Mind: Because you crave a connection that transcends the selfish. You want to love someone more than you want to be loved. You want unconditional, selfless love—to give it, not just receive it. Even in the face of everything you’ve seen and felt, you still believe that love can be a powerful force, even if it’s fleeting. You know the world is dark, but deep down, you still believe that everyone, no matter how broken, deserves love. Not the kind that asks for anything in return, but the kind that simply is.
Krishna: I wonder what’s the point of having a crush when they don’t like you back. Like, just fucking move on. It’s a waste of energy.
Krishna’s Mind: Crushing on someone who doesn’t love you back is a fool’s game. It’s unwinnable, like playing a rigged game where the rules change every time. So just let it go. Move on. There’s no point in holding on to something that doesn’t return your feelings. It’s like clinging to a ghost—something that never really existed in the first place. You’re better off investing your energy in something real, something mutual. Love shouldn’t be a chase; it should be shared. Find someone who actually cares. Not someone who’s a figment of your imagination or some fleeting idea. The right person will see you for who you are, without games, without expectations.
Krishna: I hate how everything feels like an illusion sometimes. People pretend to have it all together, pretending they’re happy. But it’s all just smoke and mirrors. Nobody truly knows what they’re doing. So why do we bother? Why do we act like it matters?
Krishna’s Mind: Because even in the chaos, even in the lies and illusions, we crave connection. People wear masks, sure, but underneath, they’re just trying to make sense of the madness, just like you. The difference is, they’re afraid to admit it. They need to feel like they’re doing something right, because the alternative—accepting the randomness and cruelty of life—is terrifying. But the truth is, we’re all just wandering in the dark, trying to find something to hold on to. And if it’s love, or a connection with someone else, that’s what we reach for. It’s the only thing that makes the chaos a little easier to bear.
Krishna: Maybe that’s all we can do, huh? Just… keep going, even when it feels pointless.
Krishna’s Mind: Yeah. Maybe that’s the secret. The world’s not going to hand you meaning. But if you keep looking, if you keep loving, even when it feels like nothing matters, that’s where you find the answers. Not in some grand revelation, but in the small, fleeting moments. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.
Krishna’s thoughts swirl in a storm of disillusionment and introspection, a constant battle between seeing the world as meaningless and clinging to the hope that connection, even if it’s brief, is worth something. He’s still searching, still questioning, still struggling to reconcile his nihilistic views with the human need for love.
Part 2: Cynicism
Krishna: Look at me—when I was 14, I was a fucking sociopath. Now I’m empathic—how the fuck did this happen?
Krishna’s Mind: You’re struggling with who you are now compared to the monster you were just a year ago. It’s tough, right? Swallowing the fact that you’ve changed. I mean, one day you were doing whatever the hell you wanted, hurting whatever came in your path, and now… you’re here, questioning everything. The contrast is insane.
Krishna: I can’t believe that was me. That monster, that twisted fucking version of myself. It’s hard to even comprehend. Just one year ago, I was that fucking monster.
Krishna’s Mind: You were that monster. But look at you now. You’ve changed. You’ve worked hard on yourself, Krishna. You’re not that person anymore—the one who only knew how to create destruction and chaos. That’s called redemption. It’s messy, painful, but it’s real.
Krishna: I used to manipulate people, kill animals, just for fun. I thought it was funny. Now I don’t even recognize that version of myself anymore. I’m kinder. I care about people now. But it feels so fucking wrong sometimes. Like, I’m just putting on some kind of mask, pretending to be someone I’m not. Who the fuck am I anymore?
Krishna’s Mind: Simple. You redeemed yourself, Krishna. You worked on understanding the weight of your actions. And now, you’ve become someone else—someone better. The old you doesn’t define you. You did the hard work. You walked away from that monster, but it wasn’t easy. It never is. What matters now is the person you’ve chosen to become. Every day you choose to be better. That’s how you move forward. That’s the point.
Krishna: Yeah, but that doesn’t fix everything, does it? I’ve redeemed myself, but look at my fucking love life. It’s a mess. I don’t know what the hell to do with it. It’s like, I did the right thing, I worked hard to be a better person, but everything is still falling apart.
Krishna’s Mind: Yeah, life doesn’t just hand you everything because you’ve made improvements. It’s not that simple. Changing your heart doesn’t fix everything. It’s just another step on a long road. Relationships? Love? Those don’t follow the rules. They don’t give a shit about what you’ve been through. Love’s fucking complicated. It’s raw, it’s messy, and it doesn’t come with a roadmap. You’re not guaranteed a happily ever after just because you worked on yourself. Hell, love’s not a reward, it’s a fight. And sometimes, it’s just not the fight you can win at that moment.
Krishna: It just feels pointless sometimes. I’m doing all this work, and yet everything still ends up in flames. I hate humanity. Every time I look around, it’s just a pit of violence and cruelty. All this greed, all this hatred. It’s in our nature, isn’t it? We’re just monsters with faces.
Krishna’s Mind: I agree. There’s so much to hate about humanity. People are born with the capacity for both creation and destruction, for love and violence. It’s who we are. We can destroy just as easily as we can build. Humanity is fractured by its own nature. Selfishness, violence, ignorance—they’re all woven into our DNA. You’re not wrong to see that, Krishna. We’re capable of so much good and so much bad. The problem is, the bad often overshadows the good. And it makes everything feel like we’re doomed to repeat the same fucking mistakes over and over again.
Krishna: So, why do I bother? What’s the point of even trying to change, trying to fix myself if the world is just this broken, violent fucking mess? No matter how hard I work on myself, I can’t change anything. I can’t stop the madness. It’s like I’m just a small, powerless speck in the face of everything. I can’t even fix my own problems, let alone the world’s.
Krishna’s Mind: Because you know, deep down, that there’s more to it. You’re not doing this for the world, Krishna. You’re doing it for you. It’s your spark of hope that still believes that maybe, just maybe, things can be different. You want to find some kind of meaning in all this chaos, something to hold onto when everything else feels meaningless. You keep fighting not because you think you can fix the world but because you can fix yourself. And even if it’s all just a pile of bullshit, it’s your bullshit. And that’s what keeps you going. It’s the fact that you haven’t completely given up on yourself, on the idea that change can happen. Even if it’s small, even if it’s not perfect. It’s about finding your way through it, not making everything else better.
Krishna: So I just… keep going? Even if nothing changes, I keep fighting for something that may not even exist?
Krishna’s Mind: Yeah. Because in the end, it’s not about erasing the bad. It’s not about creating some perfect world. It’s about living in the chaos, accepting that everything is fucked up, but still finding the moments that matter. You don’t need to have everything figured out. No one does. But you’re still here. You’re still alive. And that means something, Krishna. Even if it’s just for you. Those little moments, the tiny victories—they matter. They’re the reason to keep going. Even when it feels pointless, even when it feels like everything is slipping through your fingers. Because if you give up, then that’s it. But if you keep fighting, even just for yourself, there’s still a chance you’ll find something worth it. Maybe not for the world, but for you.
Krishna: Maybe. But damn, sometimes it feels like I’m just trapped in a never-ending cycle of frustration. Like, no matter what I do, nothing’s going to change. We’re all just doomed to live in this mess forever.
Krishna’s Mind: Maybe. Or maybe not. The beauty of it is that we get to choose how we face it. We don’t have control over everything, but we do have control over how we live with it. The choice to keep going, to keep fighting, is the one thing we can control. You don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t have to fix everything. But you do have to keep moving. And that movement—however small it feels—it matters. The world might stay the same, but that doesn’t mean you have to. You can choose how you live in the chaos. You can choose how you navigate the mess, even if you can’t change the whole damn thing. That’s the one thing we have in our hands: the choice to keep moving forward.
Krishna’s internal battle continues. The tension between his cynicism and the part of him that wants to hold onto hope creates a war within himself. He knows the world is broken, but maybe it’s not about fixing it all. Maybe it’s about accepting the chaos, finding small moments of peace within it, and continuing to move forward. Even if he can’t fix everything, even if he can’t make it all better, the fight is still worth it—for himself, at least. The question of whether humanity can change might always linger, but Krishna can’t stop searching for meaning in the middle of the madness.
Part 3: Humanism
Krishna: sighs You know what’s funny? No matter how much I try to convince myself that life doesn’t mean anything, I can’t ignore the fact that there’s something inside me that still wants to do good. It’s like I’m fighting with myself constantly, trying to convince myself that the world’s too messed up to care, but at the same time, I find myself doing things I don’t even know why I do. Like helping someone just because they look like they need it. Or talking to people when I could just ignore them.
Krishna’s Mind: It’s because deep down, you want to believe that even in a world full of chaos, there’s something worth caring about. You don’t want to completely give in to the emptiness you feel. It’s hard, isn’t it? Because the world shows us so much pain and suffering, but you still choose to do what’s good, to help others when you don’t even know if it’ll make a difference.
Krishna: pauses Yeah, it’s like I can’t escape that part of me. I look at people—sometimes I feel like I’m about to say something real messed up, like they’re just pawns in this ugly game called life, but… I can’t. I don’t want to bring that darkness into their lives. Even though I feel like everything’s meaningless, I can’t bring myself to destroy their sense of hope. I see people just trying to live their lives, and I don’t want to make them feel like it's all pointless.
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Krishna’s Mind: That’s the thing about humanism, Krishna. You know the world is broken, but you still believe in the inherent worth of people. You might feel like you’re alone in it, but in some twisted way, your struggle is a reflection of the struggle humanity faces every day. We know things aren’t perfect, but there’s this drive inside us to make things better, to help each other out, even if it’s just one person at a time.
Krishna: nodding Yeah, and it’s exhausting sometimes. Like, I get it—we’re all just trying to survive. But sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who notices how messed up things are. And when I see someone else who’s going through the same stuff—just trying to hold it all together—it’s like... I can’t help but want to make it better for them. I mean, I’m not some saint, but I feel like I have to at least try.
Krishna’s Mind: That’s what makes you human, Krishna. You see the flaws in the world, and you still choose to act with kindness. You’re not doing it to gain anything, but because you believe that people matter—that their lives, even in all their brokenness, are worth something. The thing about humanism is that it’s not about being perfect. It’s about embracing the messy, complicated, imperfect parts of life and still deciding to stand by people, no matter what.
Krishna: shakes his head And yet, I still feel like a hypocrite sometimes. I mean, I can sit here all day and talk about how important it is to help people, but I still struggle with my own demons. I’m still battling my own darkness, and I can’t even trust myself fully. Like, what if one day I snap? What if I lose control and hurt someone? What if I become the very thing I hate?
Krishna’s Mind: quietly You’re scared of becoming that monster again, aren’t you? The one who didn’t care, who was selfish and destructive. You’re afraid that your past might come back and define you, that all this "goodness" is just a facade that’ll crumble one day.
Krishna: Yeah. That’s exactly it. It’s like I’m walking a tightrope, trying to balance between being a better person and the urge to destroy everything in my path. And sometimes, I feel like I’m just one step away from falling. But then I think about the people I care about, and I can’t let them see me fall. I can’t drag them down with me.
Krishna’s Mind: You’re not the same person you were before. Your past doesn’t control you anymore, not unless you let it. The truth is, we all have the capacity for good and evil. The difference is in the choices we make. Every day is a new opportunity to choose something different, something better. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about continuing to choose kindness, compassion, and understanding.
Krishna: leans back I don’t know, man. I guess... I guess I still believe in people, even when they disappoint me. It’s just hard to hold onto that belief when it feels like the world’s so full of suffering. But I guess, if I don’t believe in them... who will? Maybe that’s what makes us human. That no matter how messed up everything gets, we still try. We still hope. Even if it’s hopeless.
Krishna’s Mind: smirking There you go. You’ve got the essence of humanism right there. It’s about finding meaning in a meaningless world, about seeing the good in people—even when it’s hard to find. Because if we don’t, then what’s the point? We’re not here just to survive; we’re here to make things better, even if it’s just by being there for one another.
Krishna: smiles faintly Yeah. Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing all along. Maybe, instead of looking for answers to the universe’s big questions, I should focus on the small moments—those times when I can make someone’s day a little easier. Maybe that’s enough.
Krishna’s Mind: calmly Sometimes, that’s all there is. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to make it all worth it.
As Krishna contemplates his journey through self-discovery, the internal battle continues—torn between nihilism, cynicism, and the flickering hope of humanism. He’s learned that life isn’t about having all the answers or making the world perfect. It’s about the choices we make, the kindness we give, and the strength to keep moving forward, even when the road ahead feels uncertain.
For Krishna, the fight isn’t over. But for the first time, he believes that maybe, just maybe, there’s something worth fighting for.
Part 5: Kindness
Krishna: looking out the window You know, sometimes I just want to tell people how I feel. I want to unload all the weight of the universe onto them—tell them how it’s all bullshit. That everything they work for, everything they care about, it’s all so fragile. Like, who the hell cares about love and peace when all of it is going to break down eventually?
Krishna’s Mind: quietly I get it. Sometimes, it feels like the world is a never-ending cycle of cruelty and meaninglessness. People work so hard to build something, and it all crumbles anyway. It’s frustrating, especially when evil so often goes unpunished and seems to win out in the end.
Krishna: fists clenching Yeah, I mean, look at all the assholes who get ahead. The corrupt politicians, the greedy corporations, the people who lie, cheat, and manipulate their way to the top. And the worst part? They get rewarded. It’s like the universe just says, “Yeah, screw it, here’s your prize for being a piece of shit.”
Krishna’s Mind: It’s true. The unfairness of it all stings, doesn’t it? People who live with integrity get knocked down, while the ones who are ruthless and selfish rise up. It feels like the universe is on their side, and the good guys are left with nothing but broken dreams.
Krishna: sighs I can’t talk about this with anyone. If I did, I’d just destroy their perception of the world. I’d tear down the fragile hope they have left. I don’t want to be the one who takes that away from them. I don’t want to be the one who tells them that all their efforts to be good, to be kind, are pointless. It’s hard enough living in this world without someone rubbing their face in the fact that it’s all just a cosmic joke.
Krishna’s Mind: That’s where your kindness comes in, Krishna. You don’t have to shout about how messed up everything is. You don’t have to force people to see the world the way you do. Instead, you do what you can to make their lives a little easier, a little brighter. You don’t destroy their hope—you nurture it, even if you can’t fully believe in it yourself.
Krishna: grins slightly It’s funny, isn’t it? The more I see the ugliness of the world, the more I want to protect the people I care about from it. Maybe because I can’t protect them from the bigger picture—the cruelty, the meaninglessness of it all—so I focus on what I can do. Little things.giving small amounts of money and being respectful and polite and being helpful. It’s not going to change the world, but it changes their world, even if just for a moment.
Krishna’s Mind: softly That’s exactly it. It’s not about erasing the darkness. It’s about adding light where you can. Kindness is the antidote to that cynicism you feel, the reminder that, despite the cruelty of the universe, we have the ability to make the world better for others—even if it’s just in small ways.
Krishna: shakes head But sometimes it feels like kindness doesn’t matter. Like, no matter how much good I try to put into the world, it’s still surrounded by so much hate and violence. Sometimes, it feels like I’m just fighting against a tide I can never overcome. And when the world feels like that, how do I keep going? How do I keep being kind when everything around me is just... points to the world outside ...this?
Krishna’s Mind: Because kindness isn’t about defeating all the evil in the world. It’s not about making everything perfect or erasing the pain. It’s about being human in a world that doesn’t always make sense. It’s about choosing to be better, even when it’s hard. And the truth is, Krishna—kindness doesn’t have to be grand. Sometimes, it’s the small gestures that have the biggest impact. Maybe you can’t change the world, but you can change someone's day. You can give someone a moment of peace, a moment of warmth in the middle of a cold, uncaring world.
Krishna: pauses, looking down at his hands Yeah... I guess you’re right. Kindness doesn’t have to be this grand, sweeping act. It can be something as simple as just... shrugs showing up for someone, letting them know they matter, even when the rest of the world doesn’t seem to care.
Krishna’s Mind: Exactly. And sometimes, that’s all we can do. We don’t have to solve the world’s problems. We just have to make sure that the people around us don’t feel invisible. That they don’t feel like they’re alone in this chaotic world. You’ve been through your own darkness, and you know how it feels to be overlooked, to feel like the universe doesn’t care. So, you choose to be the one who does. Even if you don’t believe in the grand idea of goodness, you still believe in people. You still believe that the world is worth fighting for, even if it’s only in the little moments.
Krishna: nods slowly Yeah... Maybe that’s what keeps me going. Not the idea of changing the world or saving everyone. But just knowing that my actions—however small—might make a difference. That kindness still counts for something, even in a world where it often feels like the bad guys win.
Krishna’s Mind: That’s the beauty of it. Kindness isn’t about getting recognition or rewards. It’s about making the world a little less cold for someone else. And that’s enough. Even if it doesn’t fix everything, even if it doesn’t change the bigger picture, it’s enough to know that, in that one moment, you made someone’s life better.
Krishna: smiles faintly Yeah. It’s enough. Maybe, just maybe, that’s the one thing we can all do. In a world full of chaos, cruelty, and meaninglessness, kindness is the one thing we can control. And maybe, that’s enough to keep going.
Krishna, despite his internal battle with the universe’s cruelty, comes to realize the power of kindness. While the world may be full of injustice and suffering, he chooses to continue his fight—not to change the world, but to make it a little more bearable for those around him. He understands that, while evil may be rewarded and go unpunished, kindness can still carve out moments of light in the darkness. And maybe, just maybe, those moments are enough to give life meaning in a world that so often seems devoid of
Part 6: Conclusion – A Mockery of Life, Humanity, and Morality
Krishna: sitting alone under a dim streetlight, staring at the city skyline …This whole thing. Life. Existence. It’s just one giant cosmic joke.
Krishna’s Mind: You finally get it. Humanity is weak. Not in the physical sense, but in the way they crumble under their own nature. They walk around pretending to be logical, pretending to be good, pretending to be in control. But what are they really? Slaves to their own instincts. Predictable, fragile creatures running in circles, ruled by the very flaws they refuse to acknowledge.
Krishna: laughs bitterly They call it “human nature.” I call it a death sentence. Look at them. They act like they’re free, but their every action is dictated by the same tired patterns. Their greed, their lust, their need for validation—it’s all so predictable. There’s no depth to them. No real individuality. Just different flavors of the same pathetic desires.
Krishna’s Mind: Let’s go through it, shall we? The 18 laws of human nature, the very fabric of their existence.
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The Law of Irrationality – They think they’re logical, but their emotions dictate everything. Every decision, every belief, every “rational” argument is just their feelings wrapped in a thin veil of logic.
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The Law of Narcissism – They act selfless, but every action is for self-interest. Even their kindness is a transaction—"If I do good, I should be rewarded." They don’t love people, they love what people give them.
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The Law of Role-playing – Every single person is an actor, putting on masks to fit the situation. They have no true self, just a collection of personas that shift depending on what gets them the most approval.
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The Law of Compulsive Behavior – They repeat the same mistakes, over and over, as if learning is beyond them. Generations rise and fall, but the patterns remain the same. History is just recycled stupidity.
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The Law of Covetousness – They only want what they can’t have. If something is out of reach, they desire it. But once they have it? It loses its value. They are doomed to chase ghosts.
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The Law of Shortsightedness – They can’t think beyond the next dopamine hit. Instant gratification runs their lives. No long-term vision. No discipline. Just endless distractions.
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The Law of Defensiveness – The moment they are criticized, they recoil, attack, deny. They would rather lie to themselves than admit they are wrong. Pride is their prison.
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The Law of Self-Sabotage – Even when given the path to success, they find ways to destroy themselves. Bad decisions, reckless impulses, unnecessary drama—it’s like they’re allergic to stability.
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The Law of Repression – They bury their desires, pretend to be moral, but it always leaks out. Hypocrites, every last one of them. Preachers caught in scandals, righteous men hiding the darkest secrets.
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The Law of Envy – If someone else is happy, they despise it. They can’t stand to see others succeed, so they tear them down, whisper poison, spread lies. They’d rather everyone suffer than let someone rise above them.
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The Law of Grandiosity – Given a little power, they believe they are gods. They crave dominion, control, worship. But strip them of their titles, and they are nothing.
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The Law of Gender Rigidity – They confine themselves to expectations, force roles onto each other, then act shocked when their own systems make them miserable.
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The Law of Aimlessness – Most of them have no purpose, no vision. Just wandering through life, clinging to whatever makes them feel less empty.
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The Law of Fickleness – Their loyalties shift with the wind. One day they love you, the next they’d kill you if it meant saving themselves. There is no such thing as undying devotion.
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The Law of Group Stupidity – Alone, a person may be intelligent. Put them in a group? Pure idiocy. Herd mentality takes over, and suddenly they’re chanting, raging, following without question.
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The Law of Aggression – They talk of peace, but deep down, they love war. They crave conflict. They need an enemy to blame for their suffering. Without war, they would tear each other apart anyway.
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The Law of Generational Myopia – Each generation believes they are superior, enlightened. Yet, they fall into the same traps as those before them. The cycle repeats.
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The Law of Death Denial – The ultimate joke. They act as if they will live forever, as if their actions have meaning. But death comes for all. Their names, their legacies, all dust in time.
Krishna: smirks This is the species that thinks itself special? That believes in gods and morals and purpose? Life is a scam. They are just slightly evolved animals, wearing suits and writing poetry to distract themselves from the fact that none of this matters.
Krishna’s Mind: And then there’s morality—the biggest joke of all. A system built on illusion. They claim to follow morals, but break them whenever convenient. If doing the right thing costs too much, they abandon it without hesitation.
Krishna: mockingly "Good always wins." laughs coldly No, it doesn’t. Evil thrives. Corruption flourishes. The worst people rise to the top, and the best people get crushed. The only “justice” in this world is what the strong impose on the weak. And even then, it’s temporary.
Krishna’s Mind: And what about God? If there is a God, he is either cruel or indifferent. Either he watches the suffering of humanity and does nothing, or he simply doesn’t care. Religion is just another system of control, another desperate attempt to assign meaning where there is none.
Krishna: staring at the night sky And yet… humans persist. They keep fighting. Keep hoping. It’s almost laughable. They are insects raging against the inevitable. But maybe that’s the beauty of it. Maybe that’s why they keep going—because they refuse to accept reality, even when it’s staring them in the face.
Krishna’s Mind: It’s pathetic. But also… strangely admirable.
Krishna: chuckles Yeah. Maybe it is.
Krishna’s final realization is neither hope nor despair—it’s acceptance. Humanity is weak, irrational, and doomed to repeat its mistakes. Life is unfair, morality is a joke, and if there is a god, he does not care. But despite it all, humans continue. They keep loving, keep dreaming, keep fighting against a universe that laughs in their face. And perhaps, in that defiance, there is something… almost worth respecting.