The abstraction is killing me. The abstraction between what seems to be reality and what truly is. Stuck in my cage, having caught a glimpse of the sunlight, yet unable to inform the others, lest I pose the risk of being told that I have invested too much. But perhaps I am operating under false pretenses, and am searching the void for reason. A false idol that claims to be the prophet of objectivity, yet becomes the dragon, disguising itself as the nihilism that saved me all those years ago.

Perhaps through deities and the spiritual, many claim to have found divine purpose for our lives, yet I am quite convinced that nobody has grasped the truth. I am aware of its existence and know where it is; I simply lack the ability to reach it, for I cannot escape scope itself. A fickle thing it is, having come so far, yet lacking the ability to complete my mission. The linear path seems to be an infinite one, barging through our consciousness, showing no signs of stopping for us to conquer; yet we march the path many have attempted, revealing to us what infinity truly means.

I wish to see past light, to hear past air, to feel past stimuli, yet this reality is parallel to our own. Similar, sharing the same patterns, the same trajectory, yet never meeting. I wish to ascend to become a god, possessing the ability to view space and time itself without the confines of human intelligence. Forged for survival, we sprouted cortexes that could comprehend a world outside our body. However, we are forever chained to our far ancestors, forced to possess an ultimately weak understanding of our surroundings through the three pound lens within us. Teetering on the cusp of knowledge, only for our initial design to hold us captive.