I make sense not as actions taken that would benefit myself in observable and immediate facts of reality, but in the way that at the core of me, there is a valid conclusion. It is a line, the only line that needs to be made. Infinite lines of flight from the individual to the outside world. An evolved form of will to power, but having a disjointed relationship with it. Consistency is what we aim for, but consistent understood as “ever-changing.” Our state of solitude, or degree of inner contentment likely depends on having unique and distinct variability, equal to potentiality, the so-called, if’s, of life.

We know we are agitated and irritable. We know there is nothing new. Routine engraves, inscribes a warped perception of the days. It cuts with depth, not width. The repetition of the blade cuts that slice again and again. Humankind had a much shorter lifespan. We were only apes a couple millennia ago. And so the juxtaposition of modernity and our becoming-self is confusing? This is at least abiding by the laws of nature and objectivity. You are not alone in this thought. A great deal of kin I have met throughout my life embody this and practice delivering themselves peace amongst the significance of this whole absurdity.

Nevertheless, specific action plots our course. It is up to us to harness energy in the world and act on its exponential and symbiotic potential. There are no beginnings and endings, nominal and theoretical applying only to you and your worldview. You are not born nor currently exist in a vacuum. It would be false to consider otherwise. There was existence before you: all-powerful empires, the most foolish of kings, the most sneerings of thieves, and the highest incarnates of evil. Which we produce. Humankind. The originator of all shadows that engulf the world.

Existence must go on after you. However, during this life. You are a force, a mechanism of resistance. As some strange assemblage of matter materialized from space, you defy death in the present.

Somehow, you exist.

I make sense not as actions taken that would benefit myself in observable and immediate facts of reality, but in the way that at the core of me, there is a valid conclusion. It is a line, the only line that needs to be made. Infinite lines of flight from the individual to the outside world. An evolved form of will to power, but having a disjointed relationship with it. Consistency is what we aim for, but consistent understood as “ever-changing.” Our state of solitude, or degree of inner contentment likely depends on having unique and distinct variability, equal to potentiality, the so-called, if’s, of life.

We know we are agitated and irritable. We know there is nothing new. Routine engraves, inscribes a warped perception of the days. It cuts with depth, not width. The repetition of the blade cuts that slice again and again. Humankind had a much shorter lifespan. We were only apes a couple millennia ago. And so the juxtaposition of modernity and our becoming-self is confusing? This is at least abiding by the laws of nature and objectivity. You are not alone in this thought. A great deal of kin I have met throughout my life embody this and practice delivering themselves peace amongst the significance of this whole absurdity.

Nevertheless, specific action plots our course. It is up to us to harness energy in the world and act on its exponential and symbiotic potential. There are no beginnings and endings, nominal and theoretical applying only to you and your worldview. You are not born nor currently exist in a vacuum. It would be false to consider otherwise. There was existence before you: all-powerful empires, the most foolish of kings, the most sneerings of thieves, and the highest incarnates of evil. Which we produce. Humankind. The originator of all shadows that engulf the world.

Existence must go on after you. However, during this life. You are a force, a mechanism of resistance. As some strange assemblage of matter materialized from space, you defy death in the present.

Somehow, you exist.