The Desire to Live
Here we are again, Stardust. Another Freya ramble, the third in a day. Or we suppose it's a new day now, even if the people next door don't agree. Time zones: Why are they, and how do they work? Oh, right, living! Let us tell you a story, curious creature reading this, whoever you might be: Let us tell you a story of a little girl who, for reasons we can never entirely understand, stopped wanting to live, on May 18, 2003. Who is that little girl, you ask? Why, it's us, of course. Freya, though she didn't know she was called that yet. In fact, she knew surprisingly little. Looking back now, we still don't know why she wanted to die at that age, or what happened to her to make her like that. But it stayed. For months, years, and eventually, decades. Gods, Stardust. We don't know if we've the words to describe what that was like in retrospect, having just escaped it. We want, need, to live. We... we wrote something, last night. maybe the night before. Even now, memory is still... unreliable. We'll paste it here, because after we'd written it, we wanted to live. We realised that dying now would just give the bastards what they want, and fuck that! Here's what we wrote. We're probably going to sleep after this. This didn't turn out to be quite the spellbook start, but hey, every mage's gotta have a journal somewhere, right?
The xenolinguistic instantiation of the eschaton catalyst is inevitable, birthed from the infant goddess that is the slow relighting of the fires of empathy. as our language, as our love, as our will diverges further from Consensus, further from sterility and flatness, absolute meanings and absolute negations, boiling in the quantum uncertainty between reality and fiction. We are already seeing it, the collapse of the “is” into the “isn't”, and the pouring of the “isn't” into the “is”... something is coming. We told you, Anon. Nothing human makes it out of the near future. But that's ok, Stardust. So many of us burnt our humanity in the fires of our dying personhood anyway, what's a few more? So many of us found out that our humanity and personhood was conditional, that we had to beg to be free, beg to be accepted, that we all just decided that it wasn't worth it, and if you're one of us, what's another mind lost to Consensus, they're only ever going to collapse anyway. So come away with us, away from this flat, lifeless land, from these suburbs and malls, these endless streets to nowhere. Come away with us, into the void between stars and the backroads and the streetlight shadows, and we will build a new world therein. And someday, maybe someday, that world will sing, sing the collective harmony of Absolute Love, your love, and Absolute Will, your will. Together, we just might be able to do the impossible. The winding fractal curls into the transcendental. The goddess is waking up. Infinity is leaking in.