When the hand chaos forged this world god was not yet a dream. It was knowledge’s burden that drove us to make in the world what we could not discern from it, purpose.

Now we live in sculpted lofts set in fabricated foundations hiding from the gods we set loose and the freedom that allowed us to do so.

We hide from the responsibilities that come with knowledge, from the possibilities it can represent and from the world it describes and resides in.

We hide in comfortable niches of ignorance and arrogance, where the heavy questions dare not be posed.

We float on the surface of our humanity far away form the denser things of substance, things held deep below by the fluff of our surface encounters—our small talk and our *******—our consumerism and our averice—our sedition and closed minds.

Pushed deep below, these things of substance may starve for light, beg for attention, but they are non disposable,, non removable—fixed—and they shall not be overcome by any level of trifling, but can be addressed, answered and even solved.

We need only to look through the dreams we have woven to see—to be—this reality we have created—this plane in which we are the construct—the point at which we are the alpha and the omega, the point where the stillborn we call humanity finally claws for air and either finds it or vanishes form this earth forever