>>791295123Before I saw this, I had wondered whether life had meaning. Now, I know with certainty that it does not. I am persuaded of the conviction that Life is but a waiting room between two great infinities, between Unbirth and Death, and it is pathetic, contemptible even, in its nigh-instantaneous brevity. What meaning does even the greatest life hold in comparison to the vast expanse of our universe? The question, of course, answers itself, and it replies with, "Nothing,". It is not God who answers the question, for He is not only dead, but has never existed. Nor is it Man, for Man is far too busy squabbling amongst himself, rending flesh and breathing flame as he tears his person asunder in the wrath of dissention. His mind, splintered and ill, screams of a thousand thousand reasons for being, each uniquely false and falsely unique. There is beauty in his resistance, but it is a terrible beauty, with all the feral grace and predatory majesty of a blazing wildfire crackling it's way across once-pristine wilderness. This is the beauty and the curse that is Man. No, it is not this Man who answers the Question, this Man of impotent rage and contrarian ideology. The answer comes from itself, self-evident, for it is all encompassing, ever-present, without beginning or end. If there ever was a deity, it was Death; Death who, with ultimate power, grinds monuments and men alike to dust, whose grip not even time itself will escape when the Universe finally fades from being. What use is there in choosing such a force as an enemy? Death comes to all, insatiable and seductive, and it will always catch its quarry.He who welcomes the darkness allies himself with all things, for all things stem from and flow toward the void. Nothing is everthing, and everything is nothing, a simultaneous, flowing symphony of darkness whose measures compose themselves for all eternity. This is Death, and until one knows this, one knows nothing.
