At first I was puzzled. It wasn't under the bed or in the living room. I looked for it in the places I used to leave it, outside my work place, at the door of the bar, but nothing. I asked my friends if they have seen it, but I think they had enough troubles taking care of theirs.
So, I choose to live without conscience. I thought that it would be a freeing experience, but after a while I started to feel that I needed one. I think I'm not made to be a Nietzsche's Superman after all.
Then I tried to acquire a new conscience. It's amazing how many people are ready to sell theirs. But the ones I found didn't satisfied me. Some were too small, others were too used. One was even bigger than myself.
I was resigned to live the rest of my life under those painful circumstances. Until, one day, the doorbell rang. It was my conscience, it came back! I was so happy to see it again that I took it immediately.
But it had changed. It was a little battered and had discovered the meaning of the phrase "wild world". And it had news for me.
Now I live with a pregnant conscience.
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|Le Chanteur Postmoderne (4)|
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I woke up one morning feeling that there was something different in me. It took me a while to realize what is was. I had lost my conscience. At first I was puzzled. It wasn't under the bed or in the living room. I looked for it in the places I used to leave it, outside my work place, at the door