I’m, like, transcendentally bored. I’m bored of every possible world. Everything that could possibly exist. The whole order of things. Everything that is and was and could be.
The usual no how on. The usual, flop on. Jog on. Roll on. Carry on. My God. What’s a modern day Gnostic to do?
The great joke of it all. The joke of the whole world, which is worse because the world doesn’t even know it’s a joke.
You get new names during the apocalypse, Cicero said.
It’s not the apocalypse yet.
It might as well be.
Nothing ever rises to apocalypse. The world never just bursts spontaneously into flame. The world itself can’t be bothered to end. The universe limps on.
She was a Gnostic dandy. An Oscar Wilde of the eternal end.
What’s made us like this?
Nihilism, right?
Nihilism plus some extra craziness. Some wild desire for hope and transcendence and whatever.
Sure, we’re Gnostics. Or neo-Gnostics. Just like Cicero.
Work in Progress 