ecce homo

They grip my hands tightly. I have only a few minutes left to think. I’m so cold, drenched in my own blood. I notice a hardened piece of blood on my eyelashes. I despise the foolishness born from believing my own lies.

Ecce homo—
Behold, the man.

I feel regret for all that I’ve done. I embrace the faces around me, staring in disgust. Is this what I deserved? I began deceiving myself a long time ago. I believed they deserved me. After everything that happened, I convinced myself they could love me. From a distance, I seemed a normal person.

But I never wanted to be that. I didn’t want to be anyone, to be forced to do anything. I made offers. I was rejected countless times—or perhaps I never truly offered anything substantive. They think I’m mad. Or am I, really? All I feel now is the pain in my wrists.

Nobody ever understood me. Perhaps they will, with time. I shouldn’t have played the humble victim bowed before the governor. Now, I walk silently towards death. Perhaps this time, god will truly stand by my side. Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

I thirst. Perhaps this is finally the end of lies. I open my hands. This might be my only chance to pray. My god, my god, why have you forsaken me? Being nailed to a few pieces of wood shouldn’t have been this painful. I wanted to ascend into heaven. I just… didn’t want to die because of my lies.