The covenant of men: see as, say nothing. Then here we are, the fruitless multipliers of the irrational stasis. Wedded once and forever to each other and the notions of our weaker selves. Who called for prostration amongst these glorious beasts? Who but ourselves could form the will to surrender?
If you seek relief in the transient balm of your age, you will note the whimsical fury of the present and the thorough disregard of your effort. Contrast, then, the stark and fleeting with the perpetual ease of the will to forge a new meaning in your time, in your space; meaning that will envelope the I in an inimitable way. The goal of any person: the call to reason.