... i change too fast: my today refutes my yesterday. i often skip steps when i climb: no step forgives me that. when i am at the top i always find myself alone. nobody speaks to me; the frost of loneliness makes me shiver. what do i want up high? my contempt and my longing grow at the same time; the higher i climb the more i despise the climber. what does he want up high? how ashamed i am of my climbing and stumbling! how i hate the flier! how weary i am up high! here the youth stopped. and zarathustra contemplated the tree beside which they stood and spoke thus: this tree stands lonely here in the mountains; it grew high above man and beast. and if it wanted to speak it would have nobody who could understand it, so high has it grown. now it waits and waits- for what is it waiting? it dwells too near the seat of the clouds: surely, it awaits the first lightning. nietzsche, thus spoke zarathustra the first part. so i used to work selling shoes. the guy on the left was my manager. im the awkward looking chap in the center and the guy on the right was the asst manager. the asst manager would talk all the time. he would tell people stories they didnt even want to hear. he would get a sale and then make people uncomfortable by talking their ear off and flattering them. his stories would rush people out of the store. since its all about a first impression he was all smiles and jokes while the customer was there but as soon as they left his mutterings took a darker turn. or maybe it just seemed darker because he was still talking. even when no one was in the store he was still talking. i used to watch him thru the windows as he talked to himself and stumbled around the store. quite frightening. quite sad.