We live today in another of the dark ages of mankind. We don't know how many there have been before us (though we will be confident in things we have no knowledge of). There is corruption everywhere, intolerence, injustice, violence, and a global culture of extreme skepticism and cynicism.
We blindly put faith in our science, or worse in our transparently evil religious leaders. We do not believe in the dreams that cannot be remembered. We barely believe what we see, barely understand what we see.
Our scientists are lost. Our priests and imams fanatical megalomaniacs. We send our children to schools to kill their dreams, and then to college to instil within them a sense of servitude.
Governments of lines drawn on mud and water exercise their power over the people born into their shackles.
There are those who believe in the dreams that cannot be remembered. They may grasp at the frayed edges of reality, like small threads that fall out of clothes they cannot see, trying to imagine the enormity of the circumstances we live in. I don't know if our eyes and ears can know before our minds expand to comprehend the scale of our reality.
But there is hope. Whispered in the winds of a dark night, high above our homes. And there are signs all around us, explaining the way of life. And deep within us shimmers a vast unexplored expanse, far greater than any telescope has seen, more infinite than the largest numbers we can conceive.
We blindly put faith in our science, or worse in our transparently evil religious leaders. We do not believe in the dreams that cannot be remembered. We barely believe what we see, barely understand what we see.
Our scientists are lost. Our priests and imams fanatical megalomaniacs. We send our children to schools to kill their dreams, and then to college to instil within them a sense of servitude.
Governments of lines drawn on mud and water exercise their power over the people born into their shackles.
There are those who believe in the dreams that cannot be remembered. They may grasp at the frayed edges of reality, like small threads that fall out of clothes they cannot see, trying to imagine the enormity of the circumstances we live in. I don't know if our eyes and ears can know before our minds expand to comprehend the scale of our reality.
But there is hope. Whispered in the winds of a dark night, high above our homes. And there are signs all around us, explaining the way of life. And deep within us shimmers a vast unexplored expanse, far greater than any telescope has seen, more infinite than the largest numbers we can conceive.
