Vixo

I am human I am human I am human I promise we are human we are human we are human but are we human? What is human what is human what is human... what does it mean to be human, when so much is no longer, well, human?
          
          Now is the time to live, more fiercely and more excrucatingly. Our humanity can't be stolen from us, for we are aware that we are human. Our voices are our voices, our limits are our virtue, our hopes are our future!
          
          Our thoughts are still ours, not imitations of what we synthesize. Art is essential to living, because we are compelled to create. When so much value is abandoned for efficiency, we must not let go of what makes us human.
          
          Stay human.

Oh, just what must a writer do!
          Trying to fit so much nonsense and chaos, of this and of that, of our lives broken to pieces in lovely mosaics to sit in some little corner of the internet. Porcelain and smoke and mirrors, how elegant indeed—to please and trick ourselves, for who else is willing to kintsugi our little nothings together if not us?
          It's exhilarating, over-under-fulfilling, so great an enigma to even fathom creating in entirety!
          Our works are just simply too complicated. For and whoever chances upon them. So, why do we write?
          
          We write just because.
          
          Just because we can :D

Time slips through my fingers like sand... thank you for coming to visit this tiny corner of a dream.
          
          Truly, just look at how much we've grown, how much we've all grown. The seasons come around like a carousel at a dizzying pace, and we have no choice but to hold on to our horses. How deliciously ironic, isn't it, growing up to be a kid again?
          
          But enough of being swirled in the vortex of this absurdity! Even if there is no meaning, we must still live. Free our heart from its birdcage, and our artistry will never be taken from us. Not by the ghost of the machine. Not by lifeless mimicries of the soul. Not by strings of code that have never felt heartache or the simplest happiness.
          Not if we keep dreaming, dear travelers, and we'll live on the moon!
          
          Keep dreaming, keep dreaming some more. Such is a revolt against the absurdity of the chaotic and meaningless world itself. Search that Library of Babel in your head, and there will always be something to catch your eye.
          
          When all is lost and purpose is beyond reach... that is when we find more than what we are looking for. And to see all the world is when we live. When we truly live!