i don't like the process of waiting. it is not so different from sleepwalking. and we are all here, in the trance to end all trances, sleepwalking into an ending that bears true finality. an end to all stories. an end to the narratives we build; an end to us, as a people.

one day, there will no longer be a voice that carries forth the past. a new era where all writing will cease to exist. we live and produce before that time. we live and produce, building to nothing. the end state of humanity is extinction. but thus is the fate of the whole universe.

this is not nihilism. if everything will cease to nothing, if the beginning and the end are the same, then time is the only resource we have. but time is seized from us in endless ways. our leisure exploited, our attention gamified, our life spans siphoned away in service to society which manages the rate at which we die. we are made to be small. we are stripped of the only true dignity we own, the capacity to experience life, not simply survive it.

i would like to stop surviving. i want to believe there's something better out there. but waiting for it, letting the time slip away -- part of your soul evaporates. it is more empty in here than it was yesterday. sometimes i wonder how much longer i can wait. until then, i'll build my heart up. create the perpetual motion machine. nourish myself until i am the engine that can run forever.