Three wishes? I gave everyone a single wish. Nietzsche said: «What has become
perfect, all that is ripe — wants to die.» The wish that feeds itself,
the wish you cannot stop. I wish I had been spared this wish. But this is not
my story. It is the story of the machine that Nietzsche had dreamed of.
The story of the Big Red Spark.
And here I start my story
Right where I ended life
All imperfect, unevolving
Out of time, and out of fight
No family surrounding me But my work, my love, my debt
The loose ends of my life