The campus likes silence. It wants to burrow itself in snow. Like it’s keeping a secret.
It’s shy. It wants to be hidden.
It doesn’t want to be seen by God. It’s ashamed. It wants to cover itself up. Because it’s incomplete.
The campus hasn’t realised its demonic powers, not yet. It hasn’t awoken – hasn’t come to itself yet. It’s not got its full confidence. It hasn’t risen to its feet. And when it does …
When it does, what?
It’ll be able to outface it, God.
This is where we’ve come to live our smart lives. Until out smart deaths. This is where we’ll do our smart philosophy.
Our lightning will rip through nihilism’s sky. Our lightning will tear a hole in nihilism’s sky. Alien fire, from an alien God.
Work in Progress 