In the end, we do things because we are compelled to. Not from hate, love, anger, reason, scientific understanding, or faith.
 
We do things because we’re afraid not to. We do things because things must be done or all is for nothing, and if we stopped to really think about it, we might be overwhelmed by fear. It is in the doing that we don’t have to ask why it is being done.
 
We have too many answers to that question and no reason to believe any of them.
 
Humans are fueled by the impetus of progress and fall silent in it’s wake. We fear that we have no purpose and mock others for finding theirs in equally absurd ideologies.
 
We are all bastards by our intelligence and children by our idiocy. We say we know a thing not because we do, but because we fear the not knowing. Out of vanity more often than admitted, and born of our torturous ennui.
 
We are justifiers, excusers, enablers, lovers of conflict who say that it must be so if we are to rid the world of conflict. We think backward but refuse the past its lessons. We come by hypocrisy innately, and through stubbornness and vanity we refuse anything beyond ourselves.
 
It must be me, it must be us and no one else. We are not to be controlled, though we are slaves to our nature. Our bootstraps will wear thin and we will fall, chests puffed and proud that we disappeared on our own.
 
We didn’t need help to die.
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