Wandering Scrybe

Lost because there is no way, still wandering because there is a will.
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The Current State of Being
Scrybe

 

And so it is that here we are.

The amassing of the few to witness the passing of the many trials taken to get here. Simplicity is upon us, pride is behind us, and we are all here. No longer the few in number but now the sparse in intellect. Original thought is scarce and inspiration far between the gaps rifted between each of us. Reach out and touch someone who passed a half hour before, their shadow still trailing behind them and in front of you. Obliterating their footsteps with your own, you trudge forward in an effort to catch up, to escape.

Try to recapture what we once had, now it's lost all about us. Discarded into the ever growing rift. Humanity forsaken for the sake of being humane. Transcend beyond our conflict in order to undue the transcendental. It's still among us, within our group, but beyond our grasp. We've forgotten, and we are forlorn to pick up our shovels and smooth what the plow has dug. We've accepted the plastic tranquility that was discovered in the search for peace. The goal was attained at the expense of the purpose.

And so humanity exhales into the void where life cannot be lived, it must be carried out.

Take a hold of meaning, watch it slip through fingers like sand and tumble down the rift never to be grasped. Take hold of the truths we've clinged to for so long, the keys to the cells we've locked ourselves into. We'll never let those go. The bars keep us safe. Freedom is only for the responsible.

Forward we shuffle in a line, reaching upwards and onwards because we want to reach inside. Tricked into believing the search is beyond when the answer should be found within. We make ourself up to be more than we are in an effort to banish the emptiness inside. In this we reach existentialism. Building ivory towers as a testament to what we think each other wants and inviting everyone to look but not touch. Those who succeed only manage to fill their tower with others and anything but themselves.

We are all lost. Eventually enough time passes that we waste away to sand and take our journey down the rift, where we all shall reconvene.