Meursault Blues

Yesterday i killed a man; with the sun in my eyes and my feet in the sand
It's hot in my hands but welcome to my cellroom: it's night; a star-specked night, and my mother's death was out of sight, out of my hands and transient; as fleeting as these starry lights

I don't need god, i don't need hope, i don't need anything from them but food and water. it's true that justice reeks of piss and being alone; but i could die tomorrow or maybe thirty years from now, and it's just the same thing. i lay myself open to the benign indifference; to my brother in despair; to the folded arms of life
And i shed no tears, i speak no lies. greet me with cries of hatred at my execution. i want the world to watch me die, to see my head roll
A martyr to nothing. to nothing