Category: Writers Block
Yesterday. It was only yesterday that eagles flew the skies, carrying the possibilities and hopes of tomorrow in their beaks.
Yesterday. Only yesterday that ships sailed the seas, buoying the wishes and the thoughts of those courageous enough to sail the seas of the unknown.
Yesterday. Only yesterday that the bison grazed the plains, seeking new ideas and new unexplored dreams.
For tomorrow. All of this for tomorrow.
And what does tomorrow bring? The eagles, stop multiplying and die? The ships, crash into rocks and fall, broken, to the sea floor? The bison, drying up and becoming something normal, conventional, and unoriginal?
What good does this do, for us. Us, who bring both life and death to the hopes and possibilities, the wishes and the thoughts, the ideas and the dreams,.
Born, living, burning ourselves up, rebuilding. Like a phoenix. A very childish phoenix, making our mistakes, remaking our mistakes, and yet again remaking our mistakes. Always resulting in the death.
The death of what? The human race? All other races? All of the things that yet to come true? Or maybe, it’s the simple death of tomorrow. No chance for the eagles to fly, the ships to sail, the bison to graze. When all of all carefully built structures of lies, corruption, our hopes and our dreams, come crashing down upon us and suffocate us all.
But what really is tomorrow? The day everything ends? The day everything becomes alive with the blooming of our “intelligence” where we forget what really matters? Where all our dreams and everything else are destroyed in our self-centered thoughts of what will happen to us?
Us. Who is us? We? Yourself always included in us, how about those who aren’t? How about the souls who have no one else to be able to speak the word, “us?” What about them? Do we really care about what happens to them? Or is it simply about… us.
When we will fall? Next millennium? Next century? Next year? Next month? Next week? Tomorrow? Today? Or maybe yesterday.
Maybe we’ve already fallen, and are only on our climb back up. Back to such great heights that our structures can no longer support us and come crumpling down. So? After our fall… again? Will we move to even greater expansions and find a way to escape our downfall?
Only EVERYONE can say for sure. Not us, not we, not they, not you, not I. EVERYONE.
Everyone will know when the time is right, and we shall survive if we are meant to survive. If we are forced to rebuild and pull ourselves back up again, it will happen.
The cycle will continue. Yesterday, tomorrow, today, now, forever. Yesterday, tomorrow, today, now forever.
But what of it? Why does it really matter? Why should it really matter? We know we will fall and rebuild, but what of the dreams of the fallen that will never be dreamed of again? What of all the forgotten dreams of the fallen? Where do they go after everything is gone? Away? Recycled? Or somewhere never to be dreamed up again. We lose knowledge as the cycle continues, 2 steps forward, 3 steps back. 2 forward, 3 back. Almost unnoticeable losses, we don’t miss the things we’ve never had, true. But we are moving further out to sea.
The sea of the undetermined future, the sea containing all our ships, the sea with no land in sight, the sea moving towards new lands, the sea of unfathomable beasts waiting just below the surface to swallow the world as we know it.
But why? Why? Why? Why? That’s the question. Why, and when. No one knows. Yet. The answer waits to be discovered. Maybe it’s already been discovered, in the past, sometime. Or maybe it’s still waiting. Waiting for someone to find all the forgotten and lost hopes and dreams, to realize our own truths and our reason of existence. Until then, the cycle continues. Yesterday, tomorrow, today, now, forever. Always.
Hmmmmm. Wow! Really makes you think...
I love it! I totally agree with this piece here.
This is deep, thought-provoking, and pessimistically realistic. Keep up the good work!