spie­len

felix schwenzel

For ye­ars, I’ve li­ved a dou­ble life.
In the day, I do my job –
I ride the bus, roll up my slee­ves with the hoi pol­loi.
But at night, I live a life of ex­hi­la­ra­ti­on,
of missed he­art­beats and ad­re­na­lin.
And, if the truth be known, a life of du­bio­us vir­tue.
I won’t deny it – I’ve been en­ga­ged in vio­lence, even in­dul­ged in it.
I’ve mai­med and kil­led ad­ver­s­a­ries – and not me­re­ly in self-de­fence.
I’ve ex­hi­bi­ted dis­re­gard for life, limb and pro­per­ty,
and sa­vou­red every mo­ment.
You may not think it, to look at me,
but I have com­man­ded ar­mies and con­que­r­ed worlds.
And though in achie­ving the­se things I’ve set mo­ra­li­ty asi­de,
I have no re­g­rets.
For though I’ve led a dou­ble life, at least I can say:
I’ve li­ved.

nein das hat nicht ge­or­ge w. bush ge­sagt, das ist der text ei­nes her­vo­r­a­gen­den wer­be­spots, mi­nes­tens ge­nau­so her­vo­r­a­gend be­spro­chen bei d-frag.

[via be­hin­der­ten­park­platz]