Giving Up

They will use our apocalypticism against us. They know how to do these things. They’re experts. They’ll trauma-bond us to them.

But we know – we know what they’re doing. We know what they up to. Is this a gift that we have: the power of discernment? Or is it a further curse: to know of our torture before they torture us?

 

To add to the dread. To lay dread upon dread. To thicken the dread, which already lies thick.

Why should we have to know? Why do we have to know? Why is it given to us to know? Why should we know what is to come? What purpose does it serve?

It won’t save us. It won’t help us. It does nothing: our knowledge. We simply know. And that knowledge is philosophy. That’s what’s left of philosophy in us.

An instinct? An aliveness? A curse?

We know. We see. We feel it.

Our dread. That’s what’s true. We all know it, but Fiver sees it. You have to be very special to have visions.

 

Sink lower. There’s further to fall. To sink. Let yourself fall. Give yourself over to falling. Don’t resist anymore. Let despair claim you. Drown you.

Die in despair. Close your eyes in despair. Don’t resist. Don’t try to stop the process. Let the end come.

There’s a whole art of giving up. You can be a virtuoso of giving up.

 

There’s much further to go, that’s the truth of it.

There’s a depth we haven’t reached, not yet. There’s still further to fall, would you believe it. And we must fall. We must go to the limit. There’s something that has to be fulfilled. A process. Which is ongoing but not complete.