allow me to dramatize.
you are in a field, a battle field. soldiers and citizens lay, wounded or killed around you. they run past you, pushing against you, pushing you with them. and you are also hurt. bombs are falling, falling unpredictably, bringing unpredictable pain and death. and in midst of all this, you yell,
"help me!"
all stops. the bombing, the people. they look at you, no, they glare at you. they say to you, as they hold their bleeding wounds and the cold corpses of their loved ones, they say to you,
"'help me?' me? me? is that all you can say? is that all you can think of? surrounded by death, all you can think of is yourself?"
then they kill you. or maybe a bomb fell on you. you will never find out.
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