a letter

Dear me,

Good day.

It has been a long time since then. Many things had changed, if otherwise, disappeared. Yet, we remain as we are. Invariant.

Why do we remain as we are now? Had they left us all behind? Or we are just too stubborn to accept the new world? My dear, we are but humans. Imperfect to the point of perfection. The incompleteness of our existence has been the factor of our belongingness to this realm. With that, we strive to walk the earth and breath air to survive.

The frailty of man had become it’s solitary meaning of permanence. We strive. We persevere. Treading the continuity of time, we seek our finality, the completeness of our imperfection. As to such, we find what is most holy, divinity. The entirety of humans are egoists after all. In the end, what they all want is to become the god of themselves.

Wars. Peace. The need for creation can be compared to the need for destruction. As one creates, there is also one that destroys for the world will not continue without this patterns. Because of that, it can be said that the part of the human’s search for completeness is derived from wrath and domination. At its ends, they all desire to conquer the co-existent. What foolish beings.

But here we are. We still remain as we are. Invariant. Nothing in us has changed. After all we have done to achieve today, after all we have done to make us who we are right now, everything is still, worthless.

With all that, I leave myself these questions.

What would become of us? Can we cease to be what we already are? What is the meaning to this world?

An answer may exist, or it just cannot be conceived by words. After all, finding the answer to this questions will be finding the truth. I might find them myself.

I wish I could. Or I think I could. If ever, I’ll just make them.

From, me.

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