November 6th, 2024

Well. Here we are, again. Where here even is, when it is, we can’t even agree on that. For some this is the beginning of the end. For others it is just the beginning. 

There. That’s where I am. In that deep churning chasm of understanding and confusion, of time and history and human nature and unnatural humanity, big Lies and little truths, amongst the birth of gods and the death of knowledge. 

I grew up on myth and legends, the fabric of unreality woven into the lives of everyone. I ran from them, towards truth that never existed. With each loss, of faith, of intellect, of conviction, reality and truth ceased to matter. Why then, should it concern me, any of us, that we are governed by these myths, in a world barren of truth, where knowledge is unattainable and change inconceivable? Does it even matter who holds the keys to the kingdom as it burns?

Some will ask questions, valid ones.

Who set the fire?

Why would they want a fire? 

What happens to the ashes? 

It’s good to ask questions, even if no answers exist. 

I could talk about now. Move away from veiled metaphor into bleak fact. Because, despite the impossibility of knowledge, I still crave the answers. I’m still convinced that there is hope. And I think that the act of searching for them, despite all indications that they don't exist, and if they do my finding them will be inconsequential, is what grounds me here. 

I know that I am not alone. We are not alone. This chasm, this fear and uncertainty is where humanity birthed the idea of itself. This is where our ancestors live, in myth and legend, and smile at us as we run from our stories. And if we listen, we might find that we are surrounded by hope, and the inevitability of change.