Because

Because he pretended me to stop telling lies, and God knows it is impossible!

Because his answers have the outstanding “endowment” of setting more questions, so that thirst I desperately felt for so long used to be answered with fancy but empty glasses.

Because I was born in the XXth century, not in the XVIth.

Because he is a terrorist, he is a Jewish, he is a “black and white” person.

Because hopelessness was dreadfully growing inside me; it was like opening an empty refrigerator over and over with a bare illusion of finding something for this wayward famine.

Because I wanted Monday be as important as Sunday, and I wanted « Saturday » be a synonym of « couch ».

Because lust, sloth and wrath are part of me, and sometimes impulses taste warm and sweet.

Because he was born when democracy hadn’t been invented.

Because I didn’t want to fall asleep without repetitions in my head and mouth any more.

Because he pretended to convince me through narration.

Because I categorically wanted to live thinking about life instead of death.

Because I found out that I would never be free if I continued living with him.

Because he is death, and because he was never born.