Even now, after all these years, I guess I’m still trying to find the words. It’s not easy getting around this… existential dread. Even now, I’m not entirely sure how it all works. But I think, or rather I hope, that when life prevails outside the bounds of our unremarkable day-to-day struggle to get by, you begin to see it. Not the truth, per se, if ever there was such a thing, but the terrifying notion that it may all have been a mistake.
Or perhaps mistake will prove too strong a word to bear the implication that sits at the tragic summit of our collective suffering. A history of anguish and hatred. A legacy of greed and aggression. A relic of hope and ambition. Yet, above else, a lingering sense of uncertainty.
Uncertainty; I seem to have found the word after all. In the end, what are these, if not notes from an uncertain planet, and an uncertain being who, despite his unyielding resilience, feared too much and understood too little. Even so, I do hope that this message finds you one day, even if the world we know is too different for any us to ever remember it again.
