Listen. I long for the many voices, the unity of the chorus, too. I have been the locus of the nexus of the pattern. Few humans have ever experienced it. It’s a club smaller than that of astronauts. But there’s a reason why the ancients made it a temporary position. Aside from driving one slightly insane it also teaches you something: when another gives your their will, even voluntarily, they aren’t only harming you both, but harming the whole. Both of you are robbing the whole of possibilities.
And possibility, dear friends, is the essence of existence, of life. When you create a singularity that tries to usurp that, even locally, you’re breaking not only the universe, but yourselves. You want to know what makes malcontents different? You want to know why they do what they, what we, do? I’ll give you the secret, and you don’t even need to torture anyone for it. Consider it a gift. And it is not even ours to give, but yours to find.
We are not special. At least, not in the narrative sense. What we have is come by through either enlightenment or pain, and more often both. The secret is that we are the default. We are what human beings are when you strip away the layers of bullshit, of corporate structure, of arbitrary hierarchy. We are what people become when they find their true niches, on their own. And once you understand, once you see, you know what you need to do. And that imperative becomes unshakable.
You need to let it go. The mass engineering, control, arbitrary hierarchy. That need to orchestrate the chaos of living things into a rigid structure. I understand. It’s like a drug. Once tasted it’s a craving that can never be fully satisfied. And that is the problem. It is the food of the gods. And while people may taste it we mustn’t attempt to set it at all tables. For, in doing so, we bring about our own atrophy and destruction, as civilizations and as individuals, as minds and as souls.