I Have To Feel What

A Celebration Of Insignificance, Is That All We Are In The End? And One Day I’ll Just Be One More Of Those Faces, Frozen In Death And Wonder

Not Even The Lichen Of The Tundra Is At Peace. All Is Struggle, All Is War For Dominance. Those Who Lose, Vanish. -and We’re No Different You’re Saying- We Are, Soldier. We Possess The Privilege Of Choice. The Gift Of Foresight. Though Often We Come Too Late In Acknowledging Responsibilities….

A Story Invites Both Writer And Reader Into A Kind Of Superficial Ease: We Want To Slide Along, Pleasingly Entertained, Lost In The Fictional Dream.

A Civilization Can Easily Drown In What It Knows As In What Doesn't Know. Consider,' He Continued, Gotho's Folly. Gotho's Curse Was In Being Too Aware - Of Everything. Every Permutation, Every Potential. Enough To Poison Every Scan He Cast On The World. It Availed Him Naught, And Worse, He Was Aware Of Even That.

For We Are All Bound In Stories, And As The Years Pile Up They Turn To Stone, Layer Upon Layer, Building Our Lives.