Hope is eternal.
That’s the problem. If we didn’t hope then we might accept our level. Our fate, such as it is. Our essential status in life. Our place in the caste system. In the great of chain being. But we do hope, right?
Who taught us to hope? Why do we hope? Why do we raise our eyes anywhere? By what instinct? Who implanted this inside us?
It’s our divine spark.
Divine!? It can’t be divine!
We’re better than we are. Or we want to be better.
That’s the problem! We’ll never accept that we’re IQ80 types …
Work in Progress 