A wise man once said, everything makes sense backwards.
I see now, the duplicity in those words. For only one constant exists that allows us true clairvoyance. A shared affliction of our species
Hatred.
Blind, predatory and frenzied. The human condition somehow culminating in an ataxia of the mind.
Our shared delirium.
Hindsights clarity however is nothing more than a puzzle completed. A conclusion drawn too late to see the obvious pattern.
If only we could remember what had come before us.
The tragedy is that the chaotic pieces, disordered and senseless seemed formless in the beginning, yet a careful mind can make some semblance of intuitive conclusion from the random opaque discord.
The agony of this realisation is not our propensity for shared bedlam, but the cyclical, ouroborean nature of mans historical behaviour and the paralysing, fatalistic effect it has on a discerning mind.
What greater cruelty can there be than the curse of foresight. The horror of experiencing the myopic absurdity of human behaviour around you. How painful it is to see the future and yet be completely unable to change the outcome.
Yet humanities bizarre manifestations of rage are but effigies. Empty vessels of transference used only to exercise our biological predisposition for insanity.
Mankind’s story is one of violence, brutality and suffering, interspersed with moments of abject grandeur.
In the end, it matters not. Our path once again returns to the familiar and well worn ground of simpleminded bigotry, ignorance and selfishness. Perhaps the only thing we have ever known.
Maybe, we simply feel safer when our hands are stained with the blood of our neighbours. Peace, empathy and safety but moments that briefly linger, surreal and impermanent, dreams at odds with our true nature, until the momentary enlightenment subsides and we are once again consumed by the blight.
So we are here once again, the penumbra of our own folly, our failure to learn from history.
Again,
again,
again.
Such darkness held in our hearts, for we never heed the lessons our ancestors suffered for,
died for,
burned at the stake for.
We are broken.
Every painful realisation abandoned with each generation, forever failing to heed any of the lessons that together, we as a species had hard earned in suffrage.
We abandon our wisdom at will.
Our scars should bring us together, shared wounds. Instead, we use them as weapons, to bite and tear until all that is left is a misery that drowns us all.
Somehow, the only consistent behaviour we possess is how to resent each other.
How can a bird fly south without a word spoken, yet our sapience fail to transfer with each generation?
We can witness bodies burned in industrial ovens, tortures of war in full colour, collated, catalogued and presented to us in all of their horrifying reality and somehow, it does not seem real, as if this scale of fervent mania is foreign. Impossible.
Now, once again, the signs of this nightmare affliction have once again taken root. This unyielding pattern of amnesic dementia.
Our nature, our instinct, is animus.
A wise man once said, everything makes sense backwards… but history has clearly shown us, we can easily predict the future.